


Boy With a Broken Soul

by Scalliwag



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (at least for a little while), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark fic, Langst, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Unrequited Love, lots of talk centered around suicide, merkeith, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scalliwag/pseuds/Scalliwag
Summary: “Wake up, idiot.”Lance blinks.“I’m not an idiot,” he tries to say, but a fit of coughing comes out instead. His whole body shakes with the force of it and the weight on his stomach bounces with each cough.“Of course you’re an idiot. What else do you call someone who doesn’t’ want to die but jumps off a cliff anyway?”***After suffering an unimaginable loss, Lance struggles to find the will to keep going. That’s when he meets Keith, a mermaid who either wants to save him or kill him. Lance can’t figure out which, and he’s afraid he might not really care.Dark themes, major character death (kind of, except not really, but also kind of), suicidal thoughts, Keith may or may not be evil…





	1. Kissing Death and Losing my Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my addition to the many Klance mermaid AUs that already exist. Going pretty dark with this one, so buckle up. Keith may be evil and, as far as healthy relationships go, this is not one for the record books. Also, suicide discussions and suicide attempts play a major role in this fic. Please make sure you skip this fic if that's something you don't want to read. Also, there's sort of major character deaths, but also... not technically, but like... If you don't want that kind of angst, probably avoid this fic anyway. 
> 
> That being said, pretty sure I am incapable of writing fics without happy endings, so we'll get to the good place eventually. The Fic title, chapter titles, and my general go-to musical backing for writing this fic is Bones by MS MR.
> 
> (note that you'll probably only care about if you found this fic through my tumblr: for some reason, the first time I posted this, it would not show up in any searchable list on ao3, including the general fandom tag. I don't know what I did, but I couldn't figure out how to fix it, so I've deleted the first attempt and am reposting this one.)

Keith floats on his back, eyes closed, gently flicking his tail to guide him in a lazy drift across the sea floor. He listens to the sounds of the ocean. There is a pod of dolphins not too far off, making all sorts of noise. A whale song drifts through the water, almost too faint to hear. He must be very far away. And then Keith hears what he’s searching for – that familiar call. 

“I just want the pain to end.” 

Keith’s eyes snap open. Good, he thinks. Then let it end. 

Keith follows the call to the base of a cliff, fragments of the boy’s thoughts jumbling in his head. 

“Miss them so much – just want the pain to stop – don’t want this emptiness – ” 

A jumper. Good. Those are always easier to catch. The only hard part is the wait. Sometimes people are quick. Sometimes they stay there for hours, trying to work up the courage, but the longer they wait, the less likely they are to jump. Keith circles in the water below, beginning to feel anxious. He rises to the surface a few times to make sure the boy is still there, as if the voice in his head could leave any doubt. 

Suddenly, he feels it. The water fills with bubbles as the boy plunges into the depths. Eager for his meal, Keith follows him down, down, down. As they near the bottom of the sea, the boy’s momentum slows. The thump of his body against the rocks is soft, barely audible. Not near enough force to do the job. Keith takes the boy’s head in his hands, ready to crack it against the rocks and end the pain, once and for all. 

The boy’s eyes open and lock onto Keith’s. Keith prepares for the flood of terror that normally accompanies this moment. He grins, mouth filled with sharp teeth. He feels the fear rolling off the boy. And then he hears one clear thought. “Help me!”

Keith hesitates. “Please!” the voice comes again and he shakes his head to be rid of it. “I don’t want to die!” 

Then why did you jump, you idiot! Keith wants to shout back, but the boy’s eyes are already drifting shut again. Blood is seeping from a cut on the boy’s forehead that he must have sustained before hitting the water. Keith considers the boy before him, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. He’ll have to make up his mind soon. Either kill him or let the sea take him. Or, he supposes, there is one other option. 

He hasn’t made up his mind yet. Not really. Even so, he presses his lips to the boy’s, breathing air into his lungs. The boy kicks and Keith clutches him tighter.  
I’m trying to help you, you idiot! This is what you wanted, isn’t it? 

It’s no use. The boy can’t hear his thoughts, so he continues to struggle, until… Ah. Yes. Now he gets it. The boy’s limbs go loose again, the tension leaving his muscles ever so slowly. He breaths, taking the air that Keith is offering. The boy clutches Keith’s shoulders, pressing their bodies tighter together as he sucks in another breath from Keith’s lungs. It’s starting to make him dizzy, so Keith finally gives a powerful kick of his tail, propelling them to the surface. The force of the movement rips the boy’s mouth from his and blue eyes open in panic. Keith keeps a firm grip and pulls him towards the surface. For some stupid reason, he’s decided to save the boy. He can’t let him drown now.  
They break the surface of the water, the boy gasping and coughing, swallowing just as much water as air. God, this boy really is helpless. Keith wraps an arm around his chest and begins to drag him towards the shore. 

 

*****

 

Lance opens his eyes slowly. They’re crusted with salt and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach. There’s a face staring down at him, looking for all the world like Lance is the most disappointing thing he has seen in his life. 

“Wake up, idiot.”

Lance blinks. 

“I’m not an idiot,” he tries to say, but a fit of coughing comes out instead. His whole body shakes with the force of it and the weight on his stomach bounces with each cough. 

“Of course you’re an idiot. What else do you call someone who doesn’t’ want to die but jumps off a cliff anyway?”

“I didn’t jump,” Lance finally manages to croak out. “Slipped.”

“Whatever,” the boy mutters, looking unconvinced. Lance frowns. Who does this guy think he is? He has no idea what Lance has been through. He has no business judging him! Lance struggles to sit up, ready to tell this guy off, but there’s still that weight on his stomach. That’s when he realizes that the other boy is straddling his waist. It’s also when he realizes that this boy is naked. 

Lance’s face flushes bright read and he averts his eyes. The other boy only looks at him, curious and if Lance is not mistaken, slightly amused. 

“Why aren’t you wearing any clothes!” Lance manages to choke out. 

The other boy shrugs, but he doesn’t move. “Don’t have any. I was swimming.”

“Naked?”

The boy adjusts his seat on Lance, moving back ever so slightly and oh lord, that is the last thing that Lance needs right now! Lance tries to wriggle out from underneath him, but the other boy just clamps his thighs tighter around Lance’s waist and stays put. Lance looks up at the boy, helpless, only to see the most annoying smirk gracing his lips. In a second he goes from flustered to pissed off. 

“Can you get off me already? I’ve had rough day with the whole near-death experience and everything. The last thing I need is some naked stranger suffocating me to death.”

“You should be grateful, you know,” the boy says, his smirk dropping. He looks just as pissed as Lance now. “I saved your life.” 

Lance blinks. A fuzzy image floats through his memory of a face that looks an awful lot like the boy in front of him. A memory of a mouth pressed to his and breath forcing its way back into his lungs. CPR? But no, that’s not right. He’d been under water. You can’t perform CPR underwater. Then again, he had also almost died, so maybe his memory wasn’t really to be trusted. Still, it was definitely this boy’s face that he remembered. 

“I… Thank you.” The boy blinks, anger gone as sudden as it had come, this time replaced with confusion. 

“Yeah, well… You’re welcome.” The boy finally stands up, wobbling slightly, as if his legs had fallen asleep. He turns and starts walking back towards the ocean. 

“Wait! I don’t even know your name!” The boy pauses, looking back over his shoulder at Lance. The expression on his face is indecipherable. 

“Keith,” he says at last. 

With that, he turns away and runs to the water, diving in as soon as it reaches past his knees. A flash of purple splashes up from the water and Lance springs to his feet. Keith’s head disappears beneath the waves and a purple and black tail, bigger than any fish Lance had ever seen, follows him under. 

Mermaid, Lance’s brain supplies. You were just saved by a fucking mermaid! 

 

*****

Lance dumps his bag next to the door, completely exhausted. 

“I’m home,” he yells, before he remembers. Silence greets him and the pain in his chest returns. The same pain that drove him to the cliffs that day. The same pain that almost made him jump. 

Lance pushes it away. He turns on the TV to some crime procedural drama, then he pulls out his phone and choses the most upbeat song he can find. He plays that as well. His house fills with sound and it’s almost enough to drown out the past. Lance pulls a piece of leftover pizza out of the fridge and begins to eat, not bothering to warm it up. 

There’s not enough noise. 

Lance tosses the pizza crust into the garbage and heads to the bathroom, pausing only to turn up the volume on the TV. He strips off his shirt and jeans, still damp, leaving a trail of clothes across the floor. It’s not like anyone’s going to yell at him. He strips the last of his clothes off when he reaches the bathroom, taking care not to look in the mirror at the jagged scar that runs down his entire right side or the far too pink flesh stretching across his back. He gets in the shower and turns the water as hot as he can stand. The water beats down on the back of his head, creating a wall of white noise. The TV is barely audible from the living room. 

Lance sighs, finally able to breathe again. 

He begins washing himself mechanically, the routine driving out any other thoughts until the water turns cold and he’s forced to get out. He wraps a towel around his waist and grabs another to scrub his hair dry with. When he drops the towel, there’s a red smear on the fabric. Confused, Lance brings a hand to his head. It comes back wet with blood. He scrubs his fist across the mirror, clearing enough of the steam to see a tiny cut just along his hairline. It doesn’t look bad. He probably re-opened the wound when he was rubbing at his hair. Lance pulls some gauze and tape out from one of the drawers, carefully making himself a makeshift bandage for the cut. He presses down on the gauze, feeling a twinge of pain. 

He really had been lucky today. He wonders if this is a sign that he sucks at dying or if he’s actually good enough at it that the universe had finally seen fit to intervene with fucking mythological creatures. After all, how many people can say they’ve been saved by a mermaid? 

Lance still isn’t sure he believes it. He’s half convinced his concussed brain made the whole thing up. But if Keith wasn’t a mermaid, then how had he just disappeared into the ocean? And if he hadn’t been real at all, who had saved him? 

Lance frowns at the memory, trying to pick out any other details, anything to make this experience feel less like the dream he’s afraid it is. No, he’s sure that Keith is real. Somehow, beyond any reasonable explanation, there is a real live mermaid somewhere in the ocean who chose to save him. Lance smiles. It’s the first smile in a long, long time. 

 

*****

 

Lance feels stupid, standing around on the beach. He knows that the last thing a real life mythical creature would do is hang around and wait for a depressed high school drop out to come find him. He knows this, and yet… here he is, picking his way along the rocky shore to find him. He paces the beach for a while, telling himself how stupid this is, but unable to leave. He wanders further away from the cliffs to where a rocky finger of land juts out into the sea. He’s careful picking his way along the rocks, which are slick with moss and ocean spray. When he gets to the end of the rocks, he finds a mostly flat spot to sit and leans out over the edge. 

“Keith?” He calls softly, then a little louder. “Keith?” 

The burst of ocean spray surprises him and he slips from his perch, one foot slipping into the ocean and the rest of his body almost following. Despite all odds, Keith is there in front of him, glaring. 

“What are you doing here? You’re not trying to kill yourself again, are you? I saved you once, but don’t go expecting it to happen again.”

“What? No! And I told you, that was an accident yesterday.” Lance is flustered again. And angry. Why the hell does this asshole mermaid make him so angry. “I just came here to thank you.”

“You already did that,” Keith says, unimpressed. 

“No, I mean like… a proper thank you.” Lance hesitates, suddenly unsure. This is probably a stupid idea, but Keith is looking at him expectantly. He looks different from the last time Lance saw him. He’s not sure how he could have thought Keith was just a normal person before. His eyes are purple and his pupils slits like a reptile’s eyes. The angles of his face are sharp, too sharp, and his teeth look sharp as well. His ears are too long, tapering to points. Lance really must have been blind not to notice all of this yesterday. He looks completely inhuman now, and Lance feels more than a little nervous. Still, Keith did save his life. He owes him. 

“I thought maybe I could take you out for coffee or dinner or something,” Lance says. Keith considers him for a long time and with each passing moment of silence, Lance is more and more sure that this was a stupid idea. 

“Sure.” 

Lance blinks in surprise. 

“Really?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had human food. I think I would like that.”

“Good. Great. OK, then… I’ll meet you here tonight. On the beach?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Keith grins and then arches back, diving backwards into the sea. His tail flips out of the water, spraying Lance in a way he is almost 100% sure was not an accident. Still, he smiles. That went a lot better than he thought it would. 

Lance makes his way back to shore and then a new panic sets in. Where the hell do you take a mermaid on a first date?

 

*****

 

It’s not a date, Lance thinks to himself as he drives to the beach. He was very clear about that, wasn’t he? It’s just a thank you dinner. It’s not even like they’re going anywhere fancy. And besides, Keith thinks Lance was trying to kill himself the other day. And to be fair, he had been thinking about it. That’s not exactly the stable kind of person you’d want to hook up with. Even for a mermaid, Lance had to be at the bottom of the barrel as far as eligible bachelors go. No, this is definitely not a date. 

So then why the hell is Lance so nervous? 

Lance pulls off the road and onto the sandy edge of the beach, spotting Keith almost instantly. He’s sitting behind a giant piece of driftwood, lazily examining the back of his hand. When he sees Lance’s car, however, he stands up and waves. And he’s naked. Again. 

Lance slams on the brakes. How the hell had he forgotten about that? 

Keith strolls over to Lance’s side of the car and leans against the open window. 

“So where are we going?”

“Uh,” Lance says. Smooth. He’s trying (and failing) not to stare at Keith’s ridiculously toned chest. “Um, I think maybe we should get you some clothes first. I think I may have something in the back if you could just…” Lance gestures at Keith to step back. Keith straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest, but he doesn’t move. 

“You humans are so weird about nudity. I know you like what you see, and yet you still want me to cover it up?”

Lance gapes, not sure how to respond to that. 

“I don’t…. I’m not… That’s not…”

“Whatever.” Keith sighs and finally takes a step back. Lance swallows and opens his door. He pulls open the hatch on the back of his SUV and begins rummaging through the odds and ends back there. He hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to clean out the car yet, so he’s able to come up with enough items to get Keith properly clothed. He pulls out one of his old black T-shirts, a red jacket and a pair of boots that had belonged to his brother, and a pair of his sister’s black skinny jeans. Lance glances back at Keith, trying to size him up without looking too closely. He thinks these items will fit. 

He hands the pile to Keith who obediently begins to get dressed. He pulls on the pants first, fiddling with the button and zipper for several minutes before Lance breaks down and just helps him with the fixtures, blushing furiously the whole time. When he’s finished, he looks up to find Keith smirking at him again. The bastard is doing this on purpose. 

He makes Keith put on his shirt and jacket on his own and then helps him with the boots. When all is said and done, Keith looks good. The black is stark against his pale skin and the skinny jeans are doing all kinds of favors for his ass. An ass that Lance is totally NOT ogling at, thank you very much. 

They get in Lance’s car and drive mostly in silence. Keith is too busy looking out the window and Lance wonders when he last saw any human city, if he had seen one at all. Lance, for his part, can’t help stealing glances at Keith. At first, he thinks it’s the clothes that make him look more human, but the more he looks, the less sure he is. The angles of his face look smoother and, though it’s hard to tell under that mass of black hair, his ears look less pointed. And when Keith finally turns to look at him, Lance realizes that his eyes, though still the same shade of purple, have normal, round, human pupils. 

“What?” Keith asks, scowling. 

“Nothing. It’s just… you look… a lot more human than this morning.”

“Of course I look more human now. I had a tail this morning.”

“No, I mean your face looks more human.”

Keith shrugs. 

“I thought it would be helpful. Less people staring at us and freaking out.”

“So you can just… change your appearance at will.”

“Only some things.” Keith turns back to the window, seemingly bored with the conversation. “And it’s just temporary. It takes a lot of energy, so I can only maintain it for so long.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never tested the limits. I start to get tired after about half a day though.” 

“Well don’t worry, then. I’ll have you home by midnight before you turn into a pumpkin.” Lance smiles at his joke, but Keith just looks at him blankly. 

“Pumpkin?”

“Yeah. You know, Cinderella?”

“Cinderella?”

“Yeah, Disney? Forget it. It’s not important.”

Keith shrugs and goes back to looking out the window. They drive the rest of the way in silence. 

 

*****

 

They eat at a little Italian restaurant in town. Keith looks completely lost as he browses the menu and ends up just putting it aside and telling Lance order whatever for him. When a plate of ravioli appears in front of him, Keith pokes at it with his fork for a full minute before taking a bite. He smiles and digs in for another. Lance works on his own pasta a little more slowly. 

Lance tries to draw Keith into conversation, asking him questions about himself, but Keith just shrugs lot of them away. What answers he does give are frustratingly vague. 

“So, are there other mermaids out there?”

“Probably.”

“But you don’t live in like… a mermaid city or something with them?”

“I live here.”

“By yourself?”

Keith shrugs. 

“How long?”

Keith shrugs again. 

“How old are you?”

Another shrug. This is getting ridiculous. 

“How old are you?” Keith shoots back.

“Sevent-” Lance stops himself. “No, eighteen.” 

“Did you forget?” Lance asks with a smirk. 

“No, I just…” He had forgotten. He always did. He didn’t want to talk about this, but maybe a small bit of truth would encourage Keith to reciprocate about himself. “I was just in the hospital for my last birthday, so I didn’t really celebrate.”

Keith nods and the grin slips off his face as he considers Lance for a moment. Lance hopes maybe he’s considering sharing something personal as well. What comes out of his mouth instead is the last thing Lance expects. 

“Where are your parents? And Maria? Jack? Lexa?”

Each name is like a punch to the gut. Lance can’t breathe and he struggles to speak. 

“What?”

“You miss them. You’ve been thinking about them all evening, but especially now. Where are they?”

“How do you… how do you know those names?”

“Because you’ve been thinking about them.”

Keith says it so matter of fact. Lance stares. 

“You can… You can read minds?”

“No, not entirely. It’s just certain thoughts, thoughts connected to strong emotions and pain. They tend to carry. That’s what called me to the cliff yesterday. I felt your pain, your desire to end it all, to kill yourself. I heard those names in your mind just before you jumped.”

“I didn’t jump.” Lance doesn’t know why he says that, why that’s the part of Keith’s last sentence that he latches onto. Probably because it’s the only safe part. The only island in a sea of pain he’s been trying to avoid for months. A sea of pain that drove him to a cliff only yesterday. 

“You wanted to. You wanted to jump because of Jack and Maria and Lexa. Because of your mother and your father. Because you miss them. Because they’re… oh.” Keith’s eyes widen. “Because they’re dead.”

“Stop it.” Lance stumbles to his feet. His heart is pounding, threatening to jump out of his chest. He fumbles with his wallet, dropping a pile of bills on the table. He had to get out of here. 

Keith stands up to follow him and Lance pushes him away. 

“No, just… leave me alone. Just… Stay away from me.”

Lance has no idea how he makes it home without plowing into someone else on the road. He barely remembers the drive and before he knows it, he’s on his doorstep, fumbling with his keys, trying to hold back his tears until he can make it inside. When he finally does manage to get the door open, his stumbles over to the couch and collapses onto the cushions, dragging a pillow across his chest to bury is face in as he begins to sob. He cries himself to sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well as far as first (not) dates go, that wasn't great...  
> Let's give them one more shot at it in Chapter 2. 
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear from you guys in the comments. What did you like? What did you hate? What do you want to see in upcoming chapters? What's your favorite kind of pasta? You know, the usual. 
> 
> Until next time!  
> Also, as always, if you prefer update notifications on tumblr, my account there is [sscalliwag](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sscalliwag). I only post my fic related stuff there on that account.


	2. Dark Twisted Fantasy Turned to Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance used to be bold, adventurous, leading his friends into the best kind of fun and the worst kind of trouble. He could be that again, couldn’t he? He looks into Keith’s strange eyes; eyes that promise the worst kind of fun and the best kind of trouble. He makes up his mind and jumps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings apply. This fic talks a lot about suicide/suicidal thoughts, self harm, etc.

The next morning, Lance wakes feeling ashamed. His eyes and cheeks are still caked with salt from his tears last night and he can’t believe he lost it like that. He had been doing so well. He had been holding it together. He’d even been having a nice evening with Keith, until… 

Keith can read his thoughts. Lance shivers. At dinner, he’d seemed almost human. It had been easy to pretend Lance was just going out with a cute boy from down the street, easy to pretend that everything was normal. Then, in the space of a second, Keith had reminded him that things weren’t normal. That they never would be again, and Lance had lost control. He’d left Keith alone and miles from the ocean. Oh god, how had he gotten back? Had he even made it back? 

Lance jumps to his feet and begins searching for his keys. He finally finds them sticking out of the doorknob (smart Lance, real smart) and runs to his jeep. He needs to find Keith. 

Unsure where to start, Lance decides to go to the beach first. He drives to the same spot he met the merman last night and, though there’s no sign of Keith, it’s obvious he’s been there. A black shirt, black skinny jeans, and a red jacket are strewn across the sand. Lance shuts off his engine, but doesn’t get out of his car. He was in such a rush to get here that he never stopped to think about what he would say to Keith. Sorry for freaking out and abandoning you? Sorry I’m crazy messed up? Sorry I’m a complete jackass? Those are all true, but none seem sufficient. 

Finally, Lance forces himself out of his car. He walks to the end of the stony outcrop and calls Keith’s name. There is no response. He waits, kicking a few loose pebbles into the water. Still nothing. He tries calling Keith’s name a few more times, then returns to the shore to gather up Keith’s clothes. He only finds one of the boots. He looks everywhere for the second one, but it’s nowhere to be found. He’s almost ready to give up when a voice floats out to him over the water. 

“It’s not here.” Lance spins around. Keith is watching him from that stone outcrop, resting his chin in his hand and looking bored. “I threw it in the ocean last night.” Lance feels a stab of annoyance, but he quickly pushes that away. He came here to apologize, not yell at Keith. He makes his way out onto the rocks, sitting down a few feet away from Keith. He picks at a loose thread on his shorts, avoiding Keith’s gaze. 

“I’m sorry about… you know.” 

“Really, that’s it? You leave me to walk five miles back to the ocean on my own and that’s all the apology I get?”

“OK, fine. I’m really sorry. I was a complete asshole, but in my defense, you really freaked me out. I’m not used to people reading my mind when I’m not a fucking mess, let alone now.” 

“You’re not a mess.”

Lance snorts. 

“OK, fine. You’re a huge mess, but most humans are when it comes right down to it. You don’t have to apologize for that.” 

Lance can’t help the tiny smile that pulls at the corner of his lips. 

“OK then. I’m sorry for making you walk three miles back to the ocean.”

“Five,” Keith corrects him. 

“It was not five miles. It was three.”

“It was five. I know. I walked it.”

“It was three. I know. I put it in my GPS.”

“It was five,” Keith insists, his tail slapping the surface of the water in frustration. 

“It was not! I mean, the only possible way you could have actually walked five miles was if you… oh my god, you got lost!”

“I did not,” Keith says, but the blush creeping up the back of his neck betrays him. 

“You did!” Lance laughs. “How could you have gotten lost? You were looking out the window the entire drive there!”

“You’d get lost too if it was your first time trying to navigate on land.”

Keith is glaring at Lance now, but he can’t help it. He laughs again. Keith is getting visibly angrier by the second. Dimly, Lance realizes that it’s probably a terrible idea to piss of a mythological creature that looks like it could kill him in a heartbeat, but he can’t stop laughing. At least, he can’t stop until Keith sends a wave of water over his head with a powerful kick from his tail. 

“Hey!” Lance yells, jumping to his feel, completely soaked from head to toe. 

Keith smirks up at him. 

“Apology accepted.”

Lance plops back down on the rock and lifts the hem of his T-shirt, attempting to wring at least some of the water out. He notices Keith staring at the exposed skin and drops his shirt back down, blushing self-consciously. 

“You know, that’s not a very nice way to treat someone who came to apologize,” Lance says, trying to steer the conversation back to safer grounds. “I mean, I didn’t have to come out here and find you today. I could have just stayed home and watched Shark Week.”

“What’s Shark week?” Keith asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“It’s a TV show about sharks. Or lots of shows, actually. Goes on for a whole week.”

“TV show?”

“Yeah, you know. Moving pictures? With music and stuff.” Keith still looks confused. 

“Why would you want to watch pictures of sharks when you could see the real thing?”

“Because I can’t see the real thing. I don’t have a scuba diving license and, even if I did, I wouldn’t know where to even look.”

Keith shrugs. 

“I can show you.”

Lance blinks in surprise. 

“Seriously?”

“Or course. There’s a spot not too far from here.”

“OK, but I don’t have any scuba or snorkeling gear.”

Keith rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t need scuba gear. I’ll breath for you.”

Lance’s heart seems to skip a beat. He remembers warm lips and hot breath. 

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t you trust me?”

No. 

The answer comes so quickly to Lance’s mind that it startles him. He shakes that feeling away quickly. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Lance should trust Keith, after all. He saved his life. Lance has no reason not to trust Keith. Still, the thought of being in the water, surrounded by sharks, relying entirely on a boy who, let’s face it, is kind of a jerk, has him worried. 

“Good. Tomorrow then?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

Keith splashes him again, playfully this time, the small wave barely washing over his feet. Then he’s gone. It’s not his usual flashy exit. One minute he’s there, then next minute his head has disappeared beneath the water. Lance stays on the rocks for a while longer. What had he just gotten himself into? 

 

*****

 

The next day, Lance shows up expecting to find Keith in the water. Instead he’s in his human form. Naked. As usual. Lance grabs a pair of board shorts and some sandals from the bag he’d packed this morning. He had figured that if he was going to be spending even more time with Keith, it was probably best to be prepared. 

“I take it we’re not sticking around close to here?” Lance asks tossing the clothes to Keith and adverting his eyes while Keith begins to dress. 

“We’re heading to the other side of the bay,” Keith says, fiddling with the ties on his shorts. “Besides, I got bored waiting for you.”

“Yeah, sorry. I got held up this morning,” Lance lies. The truth is, mornings are difficult. He’d never been a morning person in his life and since the accident, well, just finding the energy to get up some days takes a huge effort. Keith either doesn’t notice the lie or maybe just doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just hops in the passenger seat and waits for Lance to join him. 

“So where exactly are we headed.” 

“Across the bridge, then a couple miles south. There should be a boat dock there.”

Lance knows the one Keith’s talking about. As usual, they drive mostly in silence as Keith takes in the buildings around them. 

When they get to the dock, Keith heads to the far end, walking with purpose. He stops at a small motor boat and hops in. 

“Ummm…. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Come on, help me find the keys.” Keith says, feeling underneath the steering panel and the seats. 

“First of all, why would someone leave their keys on their boat and second of all, this is not your boat. We can’t just steal it!”

“We’re not stealing. We’re borrowing.”

“Only if we can find the keys which, like I said before, are definitely not going to be--” Lance breaks off has he hears a metallic clink. Keith holds up a set of keys triumphantly. 

“How did you…”

“I heard him the last time he came to take his boat out and realized he’d left his keys at home.” Keith tosses Lance the keys and he catches them automatically.

“Like… heard him in your head?”

“Of course. Negative emotions, remember? They get amplified. He left a spare set on here after that.”

“OK, well, either way, I’m not getting arrested for going joyriding in someone else’s boat.” He tosses the keys back to Keith. 

“Lance, you said you trusted me, right?”

“Yeah, and that’s not looking like it was such a smart decision, is it?” 

Keith practically rolls his eyes. 

“Look, the owner only takes his boat out on Sundays. Is it Sunday?”

“No.”

“Then he’ll never know it was gone.”

Lance bites his lip, considering. It’s not like he hadn’t done far more reckless things in his life, or even far more illegal things. 

“OK, fine.”

He jumped on the boat. Keith grinned and tossed him the keys. 

“Just follow the coast south for a bit. I’ll tell you where to stop.”

It’s farther than Lance expected. After a mile or so, Keith directs Lance to head out into open water. A few minutes later, he has Lance drop the anchor. 

Lance pulls off his T-shirt and then grabs his bag, searching for the pair of goggles he brought with him. When he turns back to Keith, the other man is staring at his chest. No, not his chest. Keith is staring at the scar. Lance had spent the last six months hiding those scars from people, including from himself. Today he’d completely forgotten about them. 

Keith steps closer and Lance watches him warily. When Keith reaches out to touch, Lance flinches away, lifting his wadded-up shirt to cover the scar automatically. 

“From the accident?” Keith asks. Lance can tell by his tone that it’s not really a question. He clearly already knows. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it, OK?”

Keith doesn’t answer. He just continues to look at Lance. It’s very uncomfortable. 

“It was a car crash, OK?” Lance blurts out, surprising himself. “We were going up to the mountains for a ski trip. Maria’s idea.” 

Lance wasn’t sure why he was telling Keith this. He hadn’t talked about the accident to anyone, not even the therapist they’d made him see at the hospital. Still, now that he’s started, he can’t seem to stop. 

“Dad hit a patch of black ice on the way up. The car went off the road, crashed through a safety rail. Mom and dad were dead by the time the ambulance got there. Same with Maria and Lexi. Jack and I were life-flighted to the nearest hospital. He died sometime after we got there.”

“And you survived.”

Lance’s fingers find the outline of the scar on his side. 

“I almost bled out before I got to the hospital. The glass from the window sliced open my side and there were burns on my back. I had swelling in my brain. They had to put me in a medical induced coma for two weeks. I turned 18 while I was unconscious. Lexi had been making plans for a big party before…”

“You wish you’d died with them.”

Lance doesn’t deny it. What would be the point when Keith can read his mind anyway. 

“I keep waiting for things to feel less awful. For everything to go dull like people say it’s supposed to.”

“Things are already dull for you. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

Lance stares. He’s right. Everything is dull now, just not the stuff that’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to get over losing loved ones, go on living your life. The pain fades and life continues. Lance’s pain continued, but his life had faded. Everything about his life now was dull. Well, not everything. 

“I don’t know,” Lance says, forcing a smile onto his face. “Swimming with sharks sounds the opposite of dull to me. Now drop your pants and let’s get going.” Lance stuffs his bag under a seat and double checks that the anchor is secure. He turns back, half expecting to find the now familiar sight of a naked Keith in the boat, but instead, he finds Keith struggling with the cord on his shorts. Lance watches him for a while before finally taking pity and giving him a hand. Instead of tying a bow, Keith had just opted for a double knot. It’s so tight that Lance ends up having to get down on his knees and use his teeth to loosen it. 

“I swear you pull this crap on purpose,” he mutters, trying to ignore how hot his cheeks are. 

He finally loosens the knot enough for Keith to take over. Keith strips and swings his feet over the edge of the boat, slipping into the water without a sound. Lance looks over the edge where Keith disappeared. He can see a few feet down through the clear water, but Keith is nowhere in sight. Suddenly, the boat rocks violently. Lance grabs the edge, barely managing to keep from topping head first into the water. He whips his head around to see Keith smiling at him, arms crossed as he rests his upper body against the other side of the boat. 

“You coming?”

Lance hesitates. Last chance to back out, a voice in his head reminds him. You can change your mind. You can take this boat right back to the dock, get in your car, and go home. 

And then what? 

Sit in an empty home, suffocating in silence, filling the space with artificial voices, pale comparisons to the life that used to fill those rooms? Binge Netflix shows he doesn’t care about? Sleep until thirst or the need to pee drag him from his bed, then fall back into that restless unconsciousness? His life used to be more, didn’t it? He used to be bold, adventurous, leading his friends into the best kind of fun and the worst kind of trouble. He could be that again, couldn’t he? He looks into Keith’s strange eyes; eyes that promise the worst kind of fun and the best kind of trouble. 

He makes up his mind and jumps. 

His entry into the water is far less graceful than Keith’s, all splashes and flailing limbs. Webbed hands grip his waist, steadying him as he treads water. His nerves tingle where those fingers brush his scarred flesh. He’s not entirely sure if the shiver that runs up his spine is due to the cold water or Keith’s touch. 

“Hold onto me and stay close,” Keith says, turning his back to Lance. “Tap my shoulder twice for a breath.” He pulls one of Lance’s arms across his shoulder and Lance follows suit with his other. It’s almost like a piggy back ride. 

“What if I want to come back to the surface?” 

“You won’t.” 

Before Lance can protest, Keith is diving under the water and pulling Lance along with him. A brief moment of panic hits and Lance nearly lets go, but Keith holds onto his arms, pulling him deeper. Without any warning to take a breath before being dragged under, Lance can feel lungs beginning to beg for oxygen. He taps Keith’s shoulder twice. 

Keith pauses in their descent. He twists his neck and grabs the back of Lance’s head so he can press their mouths together. For one stomach flipping moment, Lance forgets what he’s doing. Then he remembers. Breathe. He sucks in a warm breath, and then Keith’s mouth is gone and he’s swimming again. They’re surrounded by coral now, not too far down. Light still filters through the water enough for Lance to see perfectly and he catches a brief flash of silver. A second later, the rest of the shark comes into view. It’s smaller than he expected, only three or four feet long, and yet the sight still sends a spark of adrenaline through his veins. Before long, another shark joins them, this one slightly larger, and then another. They keep they keep their distance though, just as Keith had promised they would. A few of the more curious sharks come within a meter or so, but always turn away before they’re within reach. Lance isn’t sure how long they float there, sharing the occasional breath and watching the sharks. It’s peaceful down here, peaceful like Lance hasn’t experience in a long, long time. Pretty soon though, even with the air from Keith’s lungs, Lance begins to feel a bit light headed. 

He taps on Keith’s shoulder. Keith brings his mouth to Lance’s, misunderstanding, but Lance accepts the breath. When he pulls back, Lance points to the surface. Keith shakes his head and turns away. He begins to swim again, but he’s not heading to the surface. Lance sees the edge of the coral and the deep blue beyond, a shelf that drops off who knows how deep. Keith is swimming right towards it. In a split second, Lance makes his decision. He lets go of Keith and makes a break for the surface. The last breath he’d taken from Keith is barely enough and he breaches the surface gasping. He gulps in several breaths, frantically searching for the boat. He finally spots it, floating in the distance. He begins swimming, trying not to panic at the thought of the sharks he knows are just beneath him or the mermaid who had absolutely not been planning on bringing him back to the surface. When he reaches the boat, he has just enough adrenaline fueled strength left in his muscles to haul himself over the side and into the safety of the boat. He lies there on the floor, breathing hard as the reality of what just happened sets in. Did Keith just try to kill him? 

The boat rocks suddenly and Keith’s body flips over the edge, his long tail nearly slapping Keith in the face. Lance scrambles back, but Keith is already transforming. His tail splits in two, shortening to human legs, his features smoothing out into something deceptively normal. 

Lance glares at the human looking face and throws Keith’s shorts at him. 

“What the hell, man! Were you trying to kill me!”

“I was just trying to show you what you wanted.”

“I wanted to come back to the surface!”

“You wanted to know what it was like to live like I do. I heard your thoughts. You can’t pretend with me.”

“Fuck you! You don’t get to use my thoughts against me. I asked you to bring me back up and you didn’t.”

They continue to glare at each other. Keith is the first to break the staring contest. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that.” He doesn’t look sorry, just annoyed. 

Keith helps Lance haul up the anchor and they head back to shore, a frosty silence stretching between them. As they approach the dock, Keith slips over the side of the boat without saying goodbye. Lance ties up the boat and drives home alone. 

 

*****

 

Lance stays away from the beach for three days. At first, he’s furious with Keith, but by the third day, that anger has transformed into a dull ache. He misses Keith. And sure, maybe he misses Keith for all the wrong reasons. Maybe he misses the unpredictability and the arguing. Maybe he misses the adrenaline in his veins whenever they’re together. Maybe this isn’t exactly a perfect relationship, but it’s something. It’s something that made Lance happy, and he’s had just about all he can take of missing people who make him happy. 

On the fourth day, Lance decides to find Keith again. He stops on his way to grab some sandwiches and smoothies; a peace offering of sorts. When he arrives at the beach, he finds what he can only assume is Keith’s own peace offering. There on the edge of the high tide mark, is a line of colorful seashells, smooth stones, and the boot that Keith had thrown into the ocean nearly a week ago. It’s ruined, of course, but Lance appreciates the gesture. 

He sits down beside the gifts and waits. He doesn’t have to wait long. Pretty soon he spots Keith’s shaggy mullet in the surf. Keith rises from the water on unsteady feet, clutching something in his hands. When he spots Lance, he stumbles and almost drops whatever it is he’s carrying. He manages to recover, however, and makes his way to where Lance is sitting. He plops down onto the sand next to Lance without a word, dropping the objects he had been carrying onto the pile of gifts. It’s a collection of sea glass in various shades of blue. Lance picks one up to examine. 

“You wear that color a lot,” Keith says. “I thought it might be your favorite.” 

Lance turns the sea glass over in his palm, feeling the smooth edges. 

“Is this your way of apologizing?”

Keith gives a short, curt nod. Lance tries to hold back his grin. 

“Apology accepted.” Lance grabs his bag and pulls out a sandwich. “Here.”

“What is it?” Keith asks, eyeing the paper wrapping. 

“Turkey avocado.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. 

“It’s food,” Lance clarifies. “And also sort of my way of apologizing too.”

“Apologizing for what?”

“For staying away so long. You’re my friend and I shouldn’t have ignored you, even if I was mad.”

Keith slowly takes the sandwich from Lance. 

“Apology accepted.”

Lance makes Keith put on some clothes before they eat. Keith grumbles about it, but obliges. Then Lance grabs a blanket from his car for them to sit on and they finally dig in to their lunch. Just as he had done with the ravioli on their first date, Keith eyes the food for a full minute before finally digging in with great enthusiasm. He even licks the crumbs from the wrapper. Lance finds himself wondering exactly what Keith eats normally. 

After he finishes licking the wrapper clean, Keith looks completely unsure what to do with it. Lance, having just finished his own sandwich, crumples his paper into a ball, then holds out his hand for Keith’s. Instead of handing him the paper, however, Keith grabs Lance’s wrist. 

Lance tries to jerk away on instinct, but Keith holds tight, staring at the pale scars that stretch down his wrists. A host of lies springs into Lance’s mind to explain away the marks before he remembers that Keith is the one person he can’t really lie to about this. 

“You tried to kill yourself before you came to the cliffs.” There’s no judgement in Keith’s voice, only curiosity. He traces his thumb over one of the scars, making Lance shiver. He nods. 

The scar Keith is tracing had been his first attempt after the accident. He’d found a scalpel in one of the cupboards at an empty nursing station. The blade was so sharp that Lance hadn’t even felt any pain as he sliced through his wrist. He just sat there on his hospital bed, watching the blood well up. It was only a few minutes later that a nurse came in to check on him. The cut hadn’t been deep enough to do the job, but it had been enough to put him on suicide watch for the next month. 

“The cliff was a better idea anyway,” Keith says, finally dropping Lance’s hand. “Drowning isn’t bad once you give in.” 

Lance tries to ignore that Keith just referred to his third suicide attempt as a “better” idea and chooses to focus on the second thing he said.

“Right, you’re an expert on drowning, having drowned so many times yourself,” Lance jokes. 

“Just the once.” 

“Wait,” Lance blinks. “What?”

Keith offers him a wry smile. 

“How do you think I became a mermaid in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought you’d always been one, like you were born one. You know… tiny guppy Keith. But… you used to be human?”

Keith nods.

“How long ago?”

Keith shrugs.

“Oh come on, that’s not a hard question.”

“You try keeping track of time when your only reliable company is a bunch of fish.”

Lance huffs out a sigh. 

“OK, then give me an estimate. A year? Two years? Five years?”

Keith gives him a funny look. 

“Longer,” is all he says. 

“Ten years?” 

“Longer.”

“Fifteen?”

“Longer.”

“Jesus, how old were you when you died?”

“I don’t remember. Probably close to your age though.”

“Wait… are you telling me you don’t age at all as a mermaid?”

“Not physically, no.”

“Well then at the risk of sounding cliché, how long have you been seventeen?”

“I’m not sure if I am seventeen.” Keith gives Lance a look like he’s trying to explain a very simple concept to a very dumb person. 

“No, it was a reference to…” Lance sighs. “OK, so you clearly died before Twilight.”

“I’m not sure what time of the day I died.”

“Never mind. Forget it. Just tell me one thing you remember from when you were alive.”

Keith is silent for a long time. Lance is sure he’s not going to say anything, but finally Keith speaks. 

“I worked construction on the bridge.”

“What bridge?”

Keith points and Lance follows the line of his arm to see the Bay Bridge. 

“Seriously? That was built like a hundred years ago. You helped build that?”

“I think so… ”

A hundred years. God, Lance must seem like such a child to him. And here he was felling sorry for that silly mermaid Keith who doesn’t understand clothes or food. Turns out it’s just the opposite. Lance thinks about his Twilight joke and feels like even more of a child. 

“What else do you remember?” Lance asks, trying to distract himself from his embarrassment. 

“Just… flashes, bits and pieces. A celebration. Maybe we had finished or maybe it was something else, but I didn’t want to be there. I remember leaving the party, but not the bridge. I remember standing on the edge, I remember the water, how still it looked, even though the ocean is never still there, so maybe that memory isn’t real. I remember stepping over the edge, the cold, breathing it in, and… that’s it.”

The silence stretches between them for a long time. Keith looks lost in the memory and Lance doesn’t really know what to say. Finally, he blurts out the only thing he can think of. 

“I’m sorry.”

Keith blinks, shaking himself out of his memory, and turns to face Lance, confused. 

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry that dying is the only memory you have from your life.”

Keith’s face hardens. 

“I’m not. Whatever happened in my life, it was apparently enough to drive me to kill myself. That doesn’t seem like it’s worth remembering.”

Lance’s eyes drop to his wrists. He thinks about his family. His loss had driven him to some pretty serious extremes, but he wouldn’t trade his memories of his family for the world. He thinks about sitting in that hospital bed, watching the blood seep from his wrists. Had he been ready to forget his family then? He can’t remember now. He can’t remember thinking about anything in that moment. He had just been… hollow. Empty. He’d been ready to be done. 

The plunk of a rock hitting the water pulls him out of his thoughts. Keith has left his side to gather a few stones and is now attempting to skip them across the water. Lance watches him toss another stone. It skips twice before it sinks. Lance doesn’t feel empty now. Everything still hurts. Sometimes it hurts so much he can’t even think straight. But there are some days, days like today, when he feels almost… happy. 

 

*****

 

Lance is in the ocean. Keith is with him. He can’t see him, but he knows he’s there. A shadow at the corner of his eye. And he can breathe, so Keith must be there. Wait… no, that’s not right. It’s not air in his lungs. It’s water. He’s breathing water. He looks down, expecting to see a tail, but no. He still has legs. He gives a few experimental kicks. He doesn’t move anywhere. He looks up again and sees a man. He’s not in the water. He’s behind a glass wall. Lance glances around him. What he had thought was the ocean was actually an aquarium tank. He can see glass walls on all sides. He still can’t see Keith. A dull pounding begins. It grows louder and louder. Lance turns back to the man. He’s pounding on the glass. His dark eyes are huge and he’s saying something. Lance can’t hear it through the glass. He swims closer. He puts a hand on the wall. He can still hear the man pounding on it, but he can’t feel anything. He looks closer at the man. He’s older, though not as old as the shock of white hair on his forehead would have one believe. There’s a scar across the bridge of his nose and his dark eyes are wild with fear. He pounds on the glass again and this time, Lance is close enough to read the words on his lips: Look out! Something dark moves in the corner of his eye. He turns. A flash of black and purple and teeth and— 

Lance wakes with a shout. He sits in his bed, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. 

What the hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the mystery begins to unfold. Who and what is Keith exactly? What happened to him a hundred years ago?Who the heck is this strange dude showing up in Lance's dreams and what is he trying to warn Keith about? 
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you guys in the comments and remember that I do post updates for all my fics at https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com/ as well. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Life Slips Away and the Ghosts Come to Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance's relationship continues to grow and Lance gets a few visitors...

“You better not be planning to murder me.”

“What?”

Keith pauses and looks back at Lance, who is struggling to push his way through the brush. 

“I’m just saying, taking me out to a secluded beach that can’t be reached by car is a little sketchy.” 

“You agreed to come.”

“And I stand by that decision. All I’m saying is that I would be really irritated with you if you decided to murder me on this adventure.”

Keith rolls his eyes and continues pushing through the bushes. 

“Relax. It’s just a beach.”

Lance tries to hide his smile as he follows. He loves how prickly Keith gets when he’s being teased. 

Things have settled into something of a routine over the past week. Every day, Lance drags himself out of bed and down to the beach, where Keith waits in various states of undress. Lance had found a decent sized crack in the cliff face to hide a bag of clothes for Keith, though how much Keith takes advantage of that fact varies day by day. Some days, they stay at the beach, wandering along the shore and talking about everything and nothing. Some days Lance will take Keith into the city. It’s been a hundred years since Keith wandered into the human world and there’s plenty there to fascinate him. Today, however, Keith had insisted on showing Lance his secret beach. As Lance pushes through the foliage, feeling yet another thorny plant scrape against his shin, he’s pretty sure he understands why no one else comes here. 

Finally, the brush thins out and Lance emerges onto a thin strip of beach. Keith is already at the water’s edge, toes digging into the wet sand. Lance joins him. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Lance nods. 

Altea’s most popular beaches are on the opposite side of the island, where the surf is calmer and the island faces the mainland. In this spot, however, there’s nothing but ocean stretching as far as the eye can see. Tall waves crest and fall a few meters out. They would be perfect for surfing, were it not for the jagged rocks just barely visible, peaking up from the water at the edge of the surf. No wonder Keith likes this place. It’s just like him: beautiful, peaceful even, but with danger lurking beneath the surface. 

Lance still dreams about Keith nearly every night. No, dream isn’t the right word. Nightmares would be more accurate. Sometimes Keith attacks him directly, while other times he just sits and watches as Lance is dragged into a blood red sea. Then Lance wakes, drenched in a cold sweat. Each morning, Lance tells himself it was just a dream, but that doesn't make him any less uneasy as he forces himself to get in his car and drive down to the beach. And every day, he finds Keith waiting with a soft smile on his face, just for Lance. It doesn't exactly erase the tension he feels, but it certainly makes it easier to ignore. 

“Want to go for a swim?” 

“I don’t have my swimsuit,” Lance says. He doesn’t say that he’d left it behind on purpose. 

Keith doesn’t push the issue. Instead, they decide to walk along the edge of the water. Every now and then Keith crouches down to dig a shell out of the sand before tossing it back into the ocean. Lance notices that, while they’re walking pretty close to the tide line, Keith is careful to stay out of reach from the waves. When Lance points this out, Keith just smiles in his usual mysterious way, but doesn’t comment on it. He does, however, deliberately step into the next wave. The water washes over Keith’s feet, barely brushing against his calves, but the effect is immediate. Purple scales so dark they almost look black shimmer up his legs, reaching almost to his knees. As the wave drags itself back to sea, it reveals identical scales covering Keith’s feet. Keith shakes his feet a little as he steps back to dry ground. The scales begin to fade and shift into his normal skin color. 

“I thought you said you could control your transformation. Why does the water do that?” Lance asks. 

Keith shrugs.

“It starts with the water. Or lack of water, depending on which way I’m going. I can feel the power I get from the ocean, that connection, whenever I’m touching water. Then it’s just a matter of pulling on that power or pushing it away.”

“That’s… impressive.”

Keith just shrugs again, but Lance doesn’t miss the little smile that flits over his lips or the way that Keith stops avoiding the waves, letting his scales ripple in and out of existence as they walk. 

 

***

 

Lance hums to himself as he digs through the Chinese food container. They really skimped on the mushrooms this time. There’s a warmth in his chest that he just can’t seem to lose today. Not even the quiet of his house of the seemingly mushroom free stir fry is enough to dampen his spirits. There’s a tiny little smile on his lips that he’s pretty sure is still going to be there when he falls asleep tonight. Then he looks up from his meal. 

“What the… How the hell did you get in here!”

“Is that really the question you want to ask me?”

The man standing in his kitchen is tall. The simple black t-shirt he wears shows off his incredibly buff arms, which are currently crossed in front of his chest. His hair is black, except for a chunk of white just over his forehead. A scar stretches from cheek to cheek across the bridge of his nose. His face looks friendly enough, considering he’s currently breaking and entering. 

“No, you’re right. Fuck questions. I’m calling the cops.”

Except his phone isn’t here. It’s charging in the living room. There’s the house phone, but Lance stopped paying that bill months ago. He mentally kicks himself for that decision now.

“Come on Lance, don’t you recognize me?”

Lance shakes his head, but then…. No, there is something familiar about him. 

“Wait… are you…?”

It’s the man from Lance’s dreams. It’s the man who yells at Lance to beware seconds before he’s killed. It’s the man who slinks from corner to corner as Keith circles him with a hungry look in his eye. It’s the man who whispers to him to run, just before a clammy hand grips his ankle. 

“I’m Shiro.”

“But you’re… how… how is that even possible?” 

Shiro smiles, knowingly. 

“Dreams are my… gift, I guess you could call it.”

“So what you’re some kind of… wizard or something?”

Shiro actually laughs at that. 

“I’m a spirit.”

“A ghost?”

“Something like that.”

“Huh.”

Shiro tilts his head to the side, smiling slightly. 

“That's it?”

“What do you expect me to say?”

“Well, most humans react more strongly when they see a spirit for the first time.”

“Well, this human has been hanging out with a mermaid for a few weeks, so the whole supernatural wow factor just doesn’t carry the same kick it used to.”

Shiro’s smile fades and his face grows more serious. 

“That’s why I’m here. Lance, the dreams I sent you--”

“Wait, you’re responsible for those fucked up nightmares?”

Shiro at least has the good sense to look a little ashamed about this. 

“I was trying to warn you.”

“About what?”

“About Keith. You need to stay away from him.”

“Seriously? Keith saved my life. You, on the other hand, have done nothing but torture me every night for a week. It seems like you’re the one I should be staying away from.”

“I didn’t want to risk visiting you. Dreams were the only way I could talk to you. You have no idea how much danger you’ll be in if they find out.”

“If who finds out?”

“I can’t say anymore, it’s too dangerous, but you need to trust me.”

“I don’t trust you. I trust Keith.”

“Then why haven’t you let yourself be in the water with him again?” Shiro leans forward, hands pressing against the counter top. “You know he’s dangerous. Even if you won’t admit it, you feel it. I may have crafted your dreams, but the foundation of them came from your subconscious.”

“You stay out of my head,” Lance snaps, storming past Shiro and into the living room. “You don’t have any right.” 

“You know you’re in danger. You can feel it. If you won’t trust me, then at least trust yourself.” 

“Leave me alone!” Lance spins around, fists clenched, but there’s no one there. As suddenly as he had appeared, Shiro is gone, leaving Lance full of anger with no one to take it out on. He grabs a pillow from the couch and chucks it at the wall as hard as he can. The soft fwump is more underwhelming then helpful, but Lance can already feel the anger fading, leaving him feeling drained. 

Lance slumps onto the couch, wondering if this is it, if he’s finally gone crazy. Maybe Shiro had never been there at all. Maybe something had snapped in him the day he’d slipped on the cliff. Maybe he has just been hallucinating everything, including Keith. 

Trust yourself, Shiro had said. Lance traces a finger over one of the scars along his wrist. He’s not sure he deserves that trust. It seems to Lance that the actions that hurt him the most are his own. Lance tugs down his sleeve and grabs a pillow to bury his head in. He doesn’t trust himself, and he sure as hell doesn’t trust this Shiro. 

 

****

 

The next morning, Lance wakes from a dreamless sleep. He’s relieved. It had taken him long enough to convince Keith to stop rooting around in his head. The last thing he needed was a second supernatural creature in there. Unfortunately, he’s no less uneasy about seeing Keith today. He thinks about what Shiro had said, that these feelings were coming from Lance’s own subconscious, not from the dreams. No, that’s not it. Lance doesn’t believe that. He won’t believe it. It’s the dreams. The effects are still lingering, that’s all. Shiro’s words were meant to make him doubt Keith, but he wouldn’t let them affect him. Whatever Shiro’s game, Lance is not going to play. 

He picks Keith up in the afternoon. They’re going to see movie. The subject had come up while they were walking along the beach yesterday and despite Lance’s best efforts, he had not been able to explain to Keith what was so fun about staring at a bunch of moving pictures for two hours. He had promised to take Keith to a movie the next day and Keith had agreed, reluctantly. Today, however, Keith greets him with his usual tiny smile and they head to the theater. 

Keith loves it. 

They go to see some big blockbuster movie with spies, intrigue, massive explosions and daring escapes. Keith is on the edge of his seat the entire time, staring at the images moving across the screen with wide eyes. Lance has a hard time staying focused on the plot of the film. Keith is far more entertaining to watch. After that, Keith drags them into another theater. Lance tries to explain that they need to pay first, but Keith doesn't listen. When he tries to drag Keith into the theater for the third time, Lance has to put his foot down. One of the ushers is already looking at them suspiciously. Keith agrees to go, though he keeps glancing longingly back at the theater doors. They eat dinner afterwards and Keith cannot stop asking questions about film making. Lance doesn’t think he’s ever heard Keith talk this much. The night is almost perfect, until Lance pops a tire on the way home. They’re only a block away from Lance’s house when it happens, so he turns off the road to the beach and pulls into his driveway instead. 

He jumps out of the car and crouches down to examine the tire in the dim light from the streetlamp. It’s not completely flat, but it will be by morning. He’s not driving anywhere until he replaces that tire. When he straightens up, he realizes that Keith has also gotten out of the car. He’s standing next to Lance, but he’s looking off into the distance.

“I have to go back to the ocean.”

“Well, it will be a while until I can get this tire fixed.”

Keith shakes his head. 

“I can’t wait.”

“Why not?”

Keith rolls up a pant leg. The skin there is shiny and black, almost like a charred flesh. When Lance looks closer, however, he sees the imprint of scales beneath almost translucent skin. 

“Wait, I thought you said that water was what makes you transform.”

“Water is where I draw my power from, but I’m also drawn back to the water. I’m cursed, remember? I can only walk on land for so long before I turn back into my true form. I’ve already stayed longer than I should.”

“Shit.” Lance glances at the tire again. There’s no way they can make it all the way down to the beach on that. But maybe… maybe there’s something else they can do. “How does it work? Your body needs to re-charge or whatever and then you can be human again?”

“Something like that.”

“Does it have to be the ocean or could it be any water?”

“I guess it could be any water. Why?”

“I think I have an idea.”

Lance leads Keith to his backyard. A large pool is set into the stones of the patio, a greenish blue light casting everything in an eerie glow. 

“It’s a salt water pool,” Lance explains, gesturing to the water. “Do you think that would work?”

Keith considers the pool for a moment, then starts to strip. Lance politely adverts his eyes until he hears a splash. When he turns back around, Keith is nothing but a blurry shape on the bottom of the pool. Lance watches, mesmerized, as Keith’s legs begin to lengthen, muscles merging together, toes growing translucent and stretching to become elegant fins. There’s a splash as Keith’s tail breaches the surface and Lance jumps back to avoid getting soaked. Keith’s head bobs to the surface and he sighs, contented. He opens his eyes and Lance blinks. He had gotten used to Keith’s more human looking face. His pupils are back to their usual cat-eye slivers now. His cheekbones are more prominent, his ears pointed, and when he opens his mouth, Lance can’t help but notice the sharpness of his teeth. 

“Join me?”

Lance shakes his head. A little voice in the back of his head is telling him this would be a supremely idiotic idea. That little voice sounds an awful lot like Shiro.

“No, it’s too cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” Keith lets his body drop in the water so only his eyes are peaking out above the surface, but Lance can tell he’s got that stupid cocky grin on his face again. 

Lance hesitates. He can hear that little voice still, gloating. See? You don’t trust him at all. Suddenly, all he wants is to prove that voice wrong. 

“Yeah, OK.”

He pulls of his shoes, then his shirt, and very lastly his jeans. He leaves his boxers on for modesty, which Keith huffs at. 

“Yeah, I know. Humans are prudes. Shut up and make room.”

Keith propels himself back from the wall obediently and Lance drops into the pool. Keith kicks his tale and, in a single heartbeat, is alarmingly close. Lance tries to put some distance between them, but the wall is at his back, trapping him, as Keith leans in even closer, tilting his head. 

“You’re afraid.”

It isn’t a question. 

“Just nervous,” Lance says, trying to get his breathing back under control. 

“Why? Do you think I’ll hurt you?”

“No.” Lance is surprised to find that he’s telling the truth. 

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid because I want to kiss you.” Lance claps a hand to his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Keith looks shocked for half a second before that damn smile is back on his lips. 

“Even when I don’t look human?” He leans in closer. “Or is it because I don’t look human,” he whispers. His lips brush across the back of Lance’s hand and Lance presses it tighter to his mouth to suppress a moan. Keith backs away just a fraction of an inch. “You don’t have to be afraid. I want to kiss you too.”

Lance lowers his hand slowly, hesitating for just a moment, before leaning forward and capturing Keith’s lips with his own. His heart leaps as he feels Keith press back into him. Webbed fingers are on the back of his neck, pressing them closer together, and Lance parts his lips to deepen the kiss even further. It’s exhilarating. He feels alive in a way that he hasn’t since… 

Lance breaks the kiss, blinking back tears. God, he is such an idiot. He’s alone in a pool, making out with the hottest guy… well, merman, he’s ever seen, and now all he can think about is his dead family. What the hell is wrong with him. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t – I can’t – this was a mistake. I – I can’t – ” He’s babbling and he knows it, but he can’t seem to stop. 

“Hey, it’s fine.” Keith has placed his hands on both sides of Lance’s head, forcing Lance to look him in the eye. “We don’t have to – ”

“I’m sorry,” Lance says. He can feel his entire body shaking and tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. “I should go.”

“Wait a second. Just… come here.” Lance lets Keith pull him from the wall. Keith spins him around slowly. He takes Lance’s hands in his own and wraps both of their arms around Lance’s chest, pulling him flush with Keith’s body. Keith’s head tucks unto the crook between Lance’s neck and shoulder and Keith tips them both back so they’re floating, Lance’s body surround and supported by Keith’s. The warmth of his arms, his chest, his breath, and even his tail, soothes the tremors out of Lance’s body. He finds himself relaxing into the hold, his eyes drifting closed. He’s not sure how long they float like that, but when Lance finally opens his eyes, it’s to find that the moon has risen fully, casting the pool in its pale light. Lance turns to look at Keith. His eyes are closed and he’s humming softly. He looks almost human like this and Lance’s heart throbs painfully. 

Keith opens his eyes and smiles at him. Then, for a moment, he looks confused. Keith’s arms loosen and then he’s gone. The water feels twice as cold in his absence. Keith swims to the pool edge and heaves himself out, tail slapping wetly against the tiles. 

“I should go,” He says, avoiding Lance’s gaze. “It’s late.”

“Right,” Lance mutters, kicking himself over to the ladder and climbing out as well. “You, um, you dry off. I’ll go see if I can get that tire changed.”

 

***

 

Lance is not avoiding Keith. There are just a lot of chores to do around the house this morning. OK, he’s avoiding Keith a little bit. He can’t help it. Last night had been intense in a way he had never expected. It was one thing to kiss a cute guy. It was an entirely different thing then have that same cute guy hold you in his arms and hum lullabies to you as you recovered from a panic attack. It also just wasn’t something Lance expected from Keith. Keith was exciting, unpredictable, dorky, mysterious, and sometimes sweet, but this was something new. Keith had been gentle and soft. It was something that had clearly surprised them both. 

Keith hadn’t said much as they drove back to the beach. When they got there, Lance got out of his car to walk Keith to the water’s edge. They stood there in silence until Keith leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Lance’s mouth, before diving into the waves. 

Lance can still feel that ghost of a touch. He remembers it even more clearly than the kiss in the pool, though that had been nice too. The problem is, now he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act around Keith. Are they boyfriends now? You clearly don’t kiss a friend like Keith had kissed him last night, but what would it even mean to have an undead mermaid boyfriend?

Lance grabs the garbage bag and heads out to the bin in his backyard. He pauses at the sight of the pool. A soft breeze brushes across his arms. They prickle with goosebumps as Lance remembers Keith’s strong arms against his own. 

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

Lance spins around, dropping the bag of trash. A few fast food containers spill out onto the deck, but Lance doesn’t even notice. The woman standing next to his gate is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She’s tall with dark skin and long, pail white hair that hangs down her back in loose waves. She wears a simple, white dress, the hem drifting gently in the light breeze. 

“I figured it was time you and I talk, seeing as your conversation with Shiro didn’t go so well. My name is Allura.”

OK, so she was one of them; another supernatural creature just showing up in his life like it was nothing. Maybe Lance needed to re-visit the idea that he might be certifiably insane. 

“Huh. Well, I’ve already met a mermaid and a ghost. That must mean you’re an angel.”

Allura cocks her head to the side, a slight smile on her lips. 

“Was that a pick-up line?”

Lance smiles back, falling into the familiar pattern of flirting with ease. 

“Depends. Did it work?”

“Not remotely,” Allura says with a laugh. “Besides, if Shiro’s report from last night is correct, you seem to have your eye on someone else.”

The smile drops from Lance’s face in an instant, ice flooding his veins. 

“Shiro’s spying on me now?”

“We thought it would be prudent to keep an eye on you, and we were right. What you did last night was very dangerous.”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

“We are only trying to protect you. Lance, you need to stay away from Keith! He’s dangerous.”

“You know, the more you guys say that, the less I believe it.” Lance stoops to collect the garbage bag, gathering up the few items that had fallen out. He’s ready for this conversation to be over. “All Keith has done is save me and be there for me.”

“And tell you time and time again that you should die?”

“It’s not like that. You’re just… taking it out of context.”

“Lance, we cannot intervene directly, not without putting you in more danger, but we also cannot turn a blind eye to what is happening here. You must know he does not care for you. He cannot care for you. He is a creature of darkness. He is incapable of any true bond.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lance slams the lid to the trash bin, trying not to shout but finding it harder and harder to remain calm. These people – ghosts, whatever – they just waltz into his life and expect him to do whatever they say just because? “You don’t know anything about Keith.”

“I know better than most,” Allura says, her voice rising in volume as well. “I have spent my life and my death fighting him and his kind. I know what they are capable of and the lengths they will go to in an attempt to deceive people like you. I have seen it happen once and I will not allow it to happen again. You must not see Keith again!”

“Yeah? And how do you plan to stop me?” Lance glares at Allura. She glares right back. After a moment, however, she sighs, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had risen. 

“I cannot stop you. I can only appeal to reason. He is a corrupted being and he has corrupted others. You must believe me.”

“I don’t.” 

Lance stalks back inside, slamming the door behind him. He half expects Allura to ghost her way right into Lance’s house, just like Shiro had done the night before. She doesn’t. When Lance looks out the window, his backyard is empty. 

 

***

 

Lance goes to the beach with the intent of forgetting everything that happened that morning. There was more to Keith than what Shiro and Allura saw in him. Last night proved it. 

Keith isn’t at their spot when Lance arrives, so he busies himself laying out a blanket and the picnic he brought. It’s evening by the time Keith shows up, pulling himself out of the water and strolling up the edge of the blanket where Lance has helpfully stacked a few clothing items. Keith puts on the clothes and then flops down beside Lance. 

“I didn’t think you’d show up today,” Keith says, reaching for a potato chip. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought maybe I scared you last night.”

“I… I think I scared myself, actually,” Lance admits. “I haven’t felt this close to someone in a long time. It’s… unexpected, but… good." He smiles at Keith sheepishly. "Definitely good.”

Keith smiles back and Lance can feel his heart melting already. OK, time to switch gears to safer territory. 

“Also, I thought maybe we could try something new today. Ta Da!” 

Lance whips out the bottle of wine he’d snagged from his parents’ liqueur cabinet. Keith looks surprised for a moment, then bemused. 

“Really? You want to try to get me drunk?”

“I don’t know. Can mermaids even get drunk?”

“I don’t know.” Keith shrugs. “I’ve never tried.” 

“Seriously? 100 years and you’ve never thought to yourself: This blows. I’m getting wasted.”

Keith laughs.

“No. I was preoccupied with other things.” 

“Like luring handsome young men into becoming your lovers?”

“No, you’d be the first time for that too.” 

Lance tries to hide his smile. Lover, huh? Well, it's not "boyfriend," but Lance will take it. 

“Hmm. First human lover and first drink as a mermaid. Maybe we can find another first time to complete the night.” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Lance flushes bright red. That had sounded a lot more sexual than he’d meant. They’d barely had their first kiss. Well, their first real kiss. That whole breathing underwater thing didn’t count. And as reckless as Lance is feeling tonight, he’s definitely not ready to go all the way. Thankfully, Keith doesn’t seem to have picked up on the innuendo. 

“What kind of first times did you have in mind?” he asks, cocking his head to the side with an innocent curiosity. Well, not entirely innocent. He’s thinking of something, but Lance is at least convinced that it isn’t sex. He shrugs, relieved. 

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to figure that out. In the meantime, wine?”

As it turns out, mermaids definitely cannot get drunk. Lance makes Keith drink more than half the bottle himself, just to be sure, but the other boy isn’t even tipsy. Lance, on the other hand, is two glasses in and feeling it. He lays back onto the blanket, eyes closed, arms feeling loose, a pleasant buzz filling his head. 

Soft lips brush against his mouth and Lance’s eyes snap open. Keith is inches away, his body hovering over Lance’s and a questioning look in his eyes. Lance doesn’t know what to say, so he just stares back. Slowly, Keith lowers his mouth to Lance’s again. Lance moves his mouth in response and Keith takes that as permission to continue. He sucks Lance’s lower lip between his teeth and Lance can feel the bite of fangs, despite Keith’s more human disguise. He moans and Keith slips his tongue into his mouth. 

Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s waist, pulling him all the way down onto the blanket next to him. The movement jostles their mouths apart, but Keith immediately reattaches his lips to Lance’s jaw, just below his ear. Lance tips his head back to give Keith better access, breath coming in short pants as Keith begins to work his way down Lance’s neck, kissing and licking and biting every inch of exposed skin. 

One of Keith’s hands is on the back of his neck, fingers sliding deliciously through Lance’s hair, a loose grip urging Lance to tilt his head back even more. Keith’s other hand is at Lance’s waist, fingers inching their way under the hem of Lance’s shirt. Too fast, his brain whispers. Keith shifts his body, trying to get leverage to return his mouth to Lance’s. His knee slips between Lance’s legs, pressing against the inside of Lance’s thigh. Not fast enough, his body shouts. 

Lance grabs a fistful of Keith’s shirt and pulls him closer, reveling in the hot press of Keith’s mouth against his own. He loses track of time, one kiss bleeding into the next, and it isn’t until he opens his eyes again that he realizes just how much time has passed. 

The sun has almost set. Lance’s eyes flicker to the horizon, where the sun peaks out above the waves, a deep orange, bleeding into red where it meets the water. He looks back at Keith, only to find the other man staring at him with a deep intensity. 

“What?”

Keith blinks, surprised, as if he didn’t realize he was staring. 

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“No, I just… I really like your eyes is all. They remind me of the ocean.”

Lance smirks. It’s a cheesy thing to say, but he loves it anyway. 

“You mean deep and full of secrets?”

Keith rolls his eyes. 

“I meant blue, but sure. You go ahead and tell yourself that.” He sits up and Lance immediately misses the warmth of his body. 

“Whatever,” Lance says, sitting up as well, “I’ve taken the buzz feed quiz. I know the ocean is my element.”

“That’s true. I think the sea would choose you if you’d let it?”

“What?”

“Like with me. You could belong there.”

Lance can hear Allura’s voice in his head. “He’s asking you to die.” Lance shoves that voice away. That’s not what he’s asking at all. He’s just saying he wants them to be together. It’s sweet, not creepy…

“Well, the sea salt would do wonders for my complexion,” Lance says, trying to lighten the mood again. 

“I’m being serious.”

The joking smile slips from Lance’s face. The intensity in Keith’s eyes isn’t threatening, exactly, but it still makes him nervous. Keith may not be asking Lance to die straight out, but that is part of the deal. Lance knows it. Keith knows it. And he’s still asking. Lance swallows. 

“It’s getting late. I should probably go.”

Something flashes behind Keith’s eyes and for a second, Lance is suddenly afraid Keith isn’t going to let him go. Instead, Keith dips his head forward to place a soft peck on Lance’s lips. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Keith climbs to his feet.

“Come by in the evening. We’ll go back to your house.” He starts walking towards the surf. 

“Wait, why do you want to come to my house?”

“So maybe we can have that next ‘first time’ you promised.”

Keith winks and Lance’s entire face flushes red. He did understand after all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long to get out. Life has been crazy and, for some reason, getting this chapter onto paper was like pulling teeth! It was actually supposed to have two more scenes in it, but I got fed up with struggling with those and wanted to get this out to you guys. 
> 
> I am really excited for chapter 4 though. It has the very first scene I ever wrote for this fic and it's really going to kick the plot into motion. 
> 
> As always, comments are welcome and loved, and if you want to get fic updates on tumblr instead of ao3, my tumblr page for fic stuff is is https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com/


	4. Heart With a Gaping Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets another visitor who brings some disturbing news about Keith. The seeds of doubt begin to grow and Lance is faced with an important decision: Trust a stranger or search for the answers on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, everyone in the comments is so worried about Lance. I can't say that reaction is entirely without merit...
> 
> Also, Fun fact: The first Klance scene in this chapter is the very first scene I wrote for this fic. Second fun fact: that scene was written 3 years ago. It was just a random idea I wrote down one afternoon and then shoved in a folder on my computer. I didn’t really have an idea for an overall story plot or even for specific characters, but then Voltron happened and I started mulling that scene over for this fic. I rewrote it a good half dozen times to fit it to the characters. Then the entire plot for this fic ended up flowing out of that one scene. Which is all just to say… I’m really excited to post the chapter that started it all.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!

Lance frowns at the pile of tomatoes in front of him. They’re all soft. How the hell is he supposed to make the best Italian dinner Keith has ever tasted with a bunch of soft tomatoes? He tries to remind himself that Keith hasn’t tasted a homemade meal in at least a hundred years, so he’s probably not going to notice a soft tomato. Still, tonight has to be perfect. Lance finally picks the least mush tomato he can find and moves on. He glances down at his list. Cream. And also milk, he mentally adds. The bottle in his fridge is months passed its expiration date. He hasn’t been to the grocery store in ages, preferring instead to just order delivery so he never has to leave his house, but delivery won’t do for tonight. Tonight, he is going to cook for Keith and the only ingredients he needs are… well, all of them. 

“Lance? Is that You?”

Shit. This is why Lance had stopped coming to the grocery store in the first place. You always run into someone you know. And of course, that someone has to be his ex-girlfriend. 

“Hey Nyma.”

Lance’s mind is racing. He really doesn’t want to do this right now, especially since he doesn’t know exactly what “this” is going to turn into. Things had not ended well between them. 

“It’s been a while,” she says, fiddling awkwardly with her purse strap. 

“Yeah.” It had been a while. Four months, to be specific. Four months since Lance had told her to leave him alone and that he didn’t love her anymore. Four months since she had stormed out of his house, crying, and Lance had wondered why he didn’t feel sad about that. Remembering it now, Lance felt the guilt start to creep into his gut. 

“I actually saw you a few nights ago, but I didn’t want to interrupt. You were having dinner with someone.”

The guilt creeps further into his stomach. 

“Um, yeah.”

“You looked happy. Is he… someone special?” There’s a note of accusation in her tone; a note of, ‘Why couldn’t you be happy with me.’ 

“He is.” 

“I’m glad.” 

She’s not. 

“Well,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “I have to go, but we should hang out some time.”

They won’t. 

“Sure. I'll call you.”

He definitely won't. Nyma nods, though it's obvious she doesn't believe him either. She hesitates for a moment, then leans forward to press a light kiss on Lance’s cheek. 

“I really am glad you’re doing better.”

That part at least sounds sincere. 

Lance shouldn’t be so hard on her. It had to have been rough, being in her shoes, being with someone who suddenly didn’t care about her or anything else for that matter. Being the one to walk in on Lance with a razor in his hands, wrists bloody. Being the one to call the ambulance and explain to paramedics that she didn’t know how long he’d been like that. It had to have been hard, knowing that she wasn’t enough to make Lance want to stay alive. 

Lance finishes shopping as quickly as he can. These are exactly the sorts of feelings and memories he does not want to have to deal with today. He’s supposed to be preparing a romantic dinner and then… honestly, who knows what else afterwards. Something, he hopes. He heads home, fully determined to move onto happier thoughts. When he opens the door, however, his heart sinks. Someone is waiting for him and he’s pretty sure this is not going to be a pleasant visit. 

“Let me guess. You’re the ghost of Christmas future?”

To his credit, the big guy actually laughs. 

“I’m Hunk, actually. Nice to meet you.”

Lance sighs and kicks the door shut behind him. The fact that he’s no longer surprised by strangers showing up in his house without warning should be alarming. Instead, it’s just exhausting. This day had been draining enough as it is. Lance doesn’t need another ghost trying to convince him that his boyfriend is evil. Lance strides past the ghost and dumps his grocery bags on the kitchen counter. 

“You know, I’m really not in the mood for whatever it is you’re here to tell me.”

“That’s fair.” Hunk shrugs and Lance fixes him with a suspicious glare. 

“Seriously? You’re just going to let it drop?”

“Are you going to listen to me if I DO try warn you about the thing I know you know I’m here to warn you about?”

“No.”

“Then there’s not much point, is there. What are you cooking?”

“Pasta.”

“Where’s your bread?”

“What?”

“You don’t have any bread. Don’t tell me you’re going to make a pasta dinner without garlic bread!”

Lance rifles through his bags. 

“Shit!”

Hunk was right. He had completely forgotten to buy bread with how rattled running into Nyma had left him. 

“Don’t worry. There’s a great bakery up the road. It’s within walking distance. Come on. Let’s go.”

Lance glances at the clock. He’s running out of time to get dinner together before he needs to pick up Keith. He doubts he’ll have enough time to get rid of Hunk and go shopping. Best to multi-task. 

“OK, fine.”

 

***

 

True to his word, Hunk doesn’t bring up Keith at all on their walk. Instead, they talk food. Hunk has all sorts of great tips and Lance can’t help but grin at his passion. He even laughs at a few of Hunk’s jokes, causing a few people on the street shoot him funny glances. 

“Hey Hunk, can other people see you?”

“Of course not. I’m a spirit.”

Lance nods but waits to say anything until after the couple passing them is out of hearing range. 

“So how come I can see you?”

Hunk shrugs. 

“Some people are just more sensitive to this stuff. The whole almost dying thing doesn’t hurt either.”

Lance almost asks, “Which time?” but bites back the words. It doesn’t really matter anyway. 

Hunk stays relatively quiet as they enter the bakery and Lance purchases his bread. He assumes it’s out of courtesy since there are so many other people around, but when Hunk remains silent on the walk back, Lance starts to suspect something else is wrong. When he hasn't said anything by the time they reach Lance's house again, he's sure of it. Hunk has a bone to pick and the odds of him leaving before he does are slim. Lance sighs. 

“Look, I know you want to say it, so just get it over with. Tell me that Keith is dangerous, I shouldn’t be around him, blah blah blah. Throw in something super cryptic and then disappear. I know the drill.”

Hunk laughs. 

“You’re right. Allura and Shiro are super cryptic. That’s why I asked to come instead. I’m a lot more blunt.”

“Well, whatever you have to say, it’s not going to change my mind.”

Hunk nods and is silent for a few minutes. 

“Are you making dinner for him tonight?”

“None of your business.”

Hunk sighs. 

“So that's a yes. I don’t get it. Why do you even want to hang out with him? I mean, you’re a friendly guy. Don’t you have other friends you could be hanging out with?”

“Not really.”

“Why not? I’ve known plenty of guys like you and they were all people magnets. I’m sure there are lots of folks who would want to hang out with you, lots of friends from high school at least?”

“Not anymore.”

Lance leaves it at that. He doesn’t want to get into this with someone he just met. Lance did have friends, once, but the accident had put a wall between them. It hung in the air with every interaction, always present but never talked about, and Lance couldn’t take it. He withdrew. No one followed him. By the time everything from his parents’ will had been settled and Lance was able to move back home on his own, he couldn’t think of a single person he still thought of as a friend. They were all just acquaintances now, moving on with their lives, going to college and getting jobs, while Lance stayed where he was, stuck in his own grief. Keith is the first person in a long time that Lance has thought of as a friend. More than a friend now. 

“Well, why not make new friends then?”

“Been a little busy. I met a mermaid and then a bunch of ghosts decided to fuck up my life.”

“We’re not the ones trying to destroy your life, and if you’d just listen to any of us for more than five seconds, you’d realize that!”

Hunk is frowning at him now, all traces of friendliness gone from his face. Lance frowns right back.

“Well when you start telling me anything that makes sense then maybe I’ll listen. But when it comes to Keith, you guys are wrong. He is a good person.”

“He’s not a person.”

“Mermaid then, whatever.”

“More like a siren. Do you even know how he spends his days?”

“Yeah. He spends them with me.” 

“And when he’s not with you?”

“I don’t know. Swimming around and talking to fish, probably.”

“He kills people!”

Lance snorts. Keith is weird and awkward and occasionally creepy, but he’s no killer. 

“Sure he does.”

“I mean, not every day, but that’s what he does. It’s what he has to do. He has to feed on them to survive. All Galra do.”

“Galra? I thought you said he was a siren. You know if you’re going to tell a convincing lie, you should try not to get your stories mixed up.” 

“No, I said he’s like a siren. All those monster stories you grew up hearing? They’re all based on the Galra, people so evil that even death wouldn’t take them, so they turned into monsters instead, feeding on humans.”

“Nice try. I think if there was an evil sea creature eating people, I would have heard about it.”

“He doesn’t eat them. He feeds off them. Or, their energy, to be more specific. All Galra have to do that to survive. Haven’t you ever wondered why there are so many drowning and suicide victims in this city? It’s way higher than the national average.”

“Keith’s not like that. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Then ask him. Ask him about all his victims. Or maybe just the last one: Cara Simmons.”

Lance’s head whips to the side at that name, but Hunk is gone, leaving Lance with a gnawing pit in his stomach. 

 

*****

 

Lance picks Keith up from the beach at sunset. He’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark gray tank top. Keith hates those pants, but Lance once told him that he looked incredibly hot in them. Lance can’t help the way his eyes linger on those jeans now. He also doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Keith’s lips. He quickly turns the ignition back on and drives. 

When they get to the house, Lance leads them through the gate instead of the front door. The moon is visible above the trees. Lance remembers their last night spent here. He turns, only to find Keith mere inches away. Keith leans in, lips almost brushing Lance’s. 

“Take off your clothes,” Lance whispers. Keith grins, throwing off his shirt and then carefully shimmying out of his jeans. He stands in front of Lance now, naked, the light from the pool basking him in a soft, green glow. Lance places a hand on Keith’s chest. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do until he feels himself push. 

Keith stumbles backwards, landing in the pool with a loud splash. He surfaces a second later, sputtering. his newly transformed tail slaps against the wall of the pool. 

“Lance, what do you think you’re doing!” 

Keith’s pupils are already slits again, his face sharp, ears pointed, and teeth sharpened into fangs. Lance is glad. This will be easier if he’s not looking at Keith with his human face. 

“I need you to answer some questions and I had to make sure you wouldn’t leave.” 

Keith’s eyes narrow. 

“So you’re just going to hold me hostage here?” 

“I guess so.” 

Keith glares for a second longer, then the anger turns into a sullen pout. 

“You know, you could have just asked me if there’s something you want to know.” 

“And you’d have answered truthfully?” 

“Of course.” 

“Even if I asked you about Cara Simmons?” 

There’s no mistaking the flicker of recognition in Keith’s eyes. 

“Where did you hear that name?”

“I went to school with her. Until she committed suicide. Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Jumped off the bridge. Turns out she didn’t die on impact, though. She made it back to the surface of the water before something dragged her back under. There was even someone who said they saw a giant purple fish, but of course no one believed him.” 

Keith doesn’t say anything. His eyes are fixed on Lance’s, though, daring him to keep going. 

“Was it you?” Still not a word. “You told me that you were the only mermaid for miles around.” 

“Well then I guess you already have your answer.” 

“I need to hear you say it.” 

“Fine. It was me.” 

Lance’s heart sinks. 

“You killed her?” 

“Yes.” 

It’s not that Lance hadn’t expected this answer. Deep down, he knew it had to be true, but the easy and emotionless way Keith had confessed to it was still hard to process. 

“And was she the only one?”

“No.” 

“So You’ve killed people.” 

It’s not a question. Keith answers anyway. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Does it matter why?”

“Of course it matters!” Lance shouts, his anger and frustration finally boiling to the surface. “You killed people!”

“Exactly. What could I say that would make you feel any differently about that?” 

“I don’t know. Were they evil? Was it self defense? Were you forced?”

“No.” 

Lance shakes his head. 

“How could you… Keith, I don’t understand. I know you. You’re a good person. How could you do that to someone?”

“I’m not a person.” Anger flashes across Keith’s face, the first sign of emotion since this line of questioning began. “Don’t pretend to be shocked by this. You know exactly what I am. You’ve always known I wasn’t human, that I didn’t exist by human rules. I belong to the sea. Just like you do.” 

“You expect me to believe that now? Now that I know you’ve been lying to me all this time!” 

“I’ve never told you a lie.” 

“But you deceived me. It’s the same thing.” 

“It’s not.” 

“It is! I can’t trust you, Keith.” 

Keith falls silent once again. Lance forces his breath to return to normal. He has more questions. He has to know if everything Hunk told him is true. 

“How many people have you killed?”

“We’re through with this conversation,” Keith mutters. 

“No. We’re not. How many!”

Keith glares at him. 

“You know, you may be able to keep me in this prison, but you can’t force me to speak.” 

With that, Keith lets himself sink below the surface. Lance waits for him to resurface, but he remains under water, gliding silently beneath the glassy surface of the pool.  
Lance stumbles to a chair and drops his head into his hands. This can’t be happening. The love of his life is a killer. An honest to God killer. A killer that was lurking beneath the surface of his pool. What is he supposed to do now? Even though he knew, deep down, that Keith had to have been the killer, some part of him was sure that Keith would be able to produce some sort of believable excuse. But he hadn’t, and now Lance is left with a plan with no end. What do you do with a killer mermaid trapped in your pool? Keith can’t stay, but can Lance really let him go, now that he knows that someone else might pay for that mercy with their life? But then, what other choice does he have? He can’t exactly call the cops and tell them a killer mermaid is on the loose. 

A cold hand on his calf startles Lance out of his thoughts, making him jump up so fast that his chair spins across the deck. Keith looks hurt for just a fraction of a second before that emotion is pushed firmly out of sight. Keith moves quickly. Lance barely has enough time to register Keith’s tail moving before the wave of pool water crashes over him. He raises his arms to block it, and at the same time, feels that hand back on his ankle, no longer gentle. 

His feet are pulled out from under him, and he falls, body slamming to the ground before being dragged over the edge of the pool. Lance reaches out and feels the lip of the pool slip past his fingertips. Strong hands grip his arms, forcing him to the bottom of the pool. Lance hits the pool floor and what small breath he had been able to take on the surface crashes out of him. 

Suddenly, lips are pressed to his own, the hot press of air against his mouth coming as a surprise. Lance’s eyes fly open, Keith’s blurred face floating mere centimeters in front of him. Keith’s eyes are open too, glaring, and Lance realizes this isn’t a kiss. He opens his mouth, breathing in as Keith holds him on the bottom of his own pool. After a few more breaths, Keith releases him. Lance pushes himself to the surface and grabs the edge of the pool, breathing heavily. His body is shaking and he isn’t sure if he has enough strength to pull himself out. Keith surfaces next to him. Lance’s grip on the edge tightens. 

“I figured you’d have realized by now that I’m not going to kill you.”

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do, Keith.”

“Does that scare you?”

“Yes.”

“It used to excite you.”

Lance closes his eyes, unable to deny that. It had excited him. It still does. That's the worst part. As afraid as Keith makes him feel, Lance is still helplessly and hopelessly in love with him. Summoning the rest of his strength, Lance pushes his body onto the pool ledge. Keith doesn’t stop him. 

“I have to go,” he says, trying to force back the thickness in his voice and ignore the knot twisting in his stomach. “Please don’t be here in the morning.”

Without another word, Lance leaves. He doesn’t look back. He can feel the pressure behind his eyes building, and he doesn’t want Keith to see him cry. 

 

***

 

Lance can’t sit still. After months of barely having enough energy to drag himself out of bed for more than a few hours each day, Lance suddenly finds his entire body fizzing with pent up energy. He paces back and forth in his kitchen. His mind is racing, but there’s nothing there but static. He can’t think straight. He can’t think at all. And yet he can’t stop thinking. Half formed thoughts zip through his mind, leaving him with nothing more than a growing apprehension that he needs to be doing something. Anything. He wants to scream, but he knows if he were to open his mouth, his voice would catch in this throat. He feels caged and he can’t stop moving long enough to calm himself down. 

The feeling had snuck up on him last night while he sat in the bathroom in the middle of his house. His family had always used that spot to wait out hurricanes, and Lance had gone there instinctively after his fight with Keith. It felt safe, and that’s what Lance needed. He locked the door and waited, counting the minutes, trying to guess when Keith would leave. Trying to guess if Keith would leave. The tension seeped into his veins slowly, sparking along his nerves, filling him to the brim with uneasiness until he couldn’t wait any longer. He lasted two hours before he went back outside to check the pool. Keith wasn’t there. 

Lance slams his hands onto the table and squeezes his eyes shut. This is useless. He’s useless. He needs to come up with a plan, but he has no idea where to even start. He opens his eyes and they fall on the article he’d printed off the day before about Cara. He had stopped halfway through the article when it described the way Cara had been found; skull fractured in multiple places. He remembers the feel of Keith’s hands on his face and an evil grin. He’s not sure if image is from a dream or from their first meeting, but he remembers it as clear as day. He remembers it too well. He hadn’t wanted to read more yesterday, but now he feels compelled. 

The rest of the story is mostly about the memorial arrangements, quotes from classmates about how smart and kind Cara was. Near the end of the article, however, there’s something that catches Lance’s eye. 

“Local paranormal investigator, Mathew Holt, has offered a substantial reward for any information on the so-called creature that witnesses say dragged Cara under the water. However, search and rescue crews wish to assure the public that although several monster sightings have been claimed over the years, divers have never found evidence of such a creature in the waters surrounding Altea.” 

Lance stares at the name. Matthew Holt. 

Leave it alone, a voice whispers in the back of his mind. It’s not your problem anymore. Keith is gone. He’s evil. He’s a monster. You don’t need to know anything else about him. Go back to your life. Leave it alone. 

Lance grabs his computer. He’s typing in Matt Holt’s name and jotting down his address before any of those thoughts have a chance to catch hold. 

I just have to find out what happened, he tells himself. I just need to know. Then I can be done. 

 

***

 

Halfway to Matt’s house, Lance realizes he has no idea what he’s going to say to this guy. Hey, remember when you saw a girl kill herself two years ago? Did you happen to see a hot mermaid while you were there? Say, remember that interview you gave that made you the laughing stock of the scientific community for nearly a year? Any chance you’ve managed to prove all your theories and just kept that all to yourself? The closer Lance gets to the address, the worse this idea seems. Still, he doesn’t turn around. Before long, he’s pulling up to a curve several houses down from the address on his phone. He examines the two-story suburban house, backed up against the edge of the forest. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the house, but he spots movement in the garage. Last chance to back out. Lance takes a deep breath and opens his car door. He walks down the street and up the driveway. 

“Shit!”

A loud banging accompanies this yell from the garage and Lance almost turns around to leave. Still, he’s come all this way. He spots a door on the side of the garage and makes his way over there to knock. This is followed by more banging and slightly quieter cursing. When the door is finally opened, Lance finds himself face to face with someone he can only assume is Matt. He looks to be in his late 20s or early 30s. A small scar marks one cheek, just below his eye. His hair is long, but it doesn’t look like a style choice, so much as he just forgot to get it cut. A pair of safety goggles is pushed on top of his head and he’s wearing jeans and a hooded Henley. This is definitely not what Lance expected. 

“Umm… can I help you?”

“Are you Matt Holt?” 

The man straightens up, looking suddenly guarded. 

“Who’s asking.”

“Look man, I don’t mean to bother you. I’m just trying to find out more information about this article I found. You’re quoted in there and… I just thought maybe you could help me.”

Matt studies him for a few seconds before deflating slightly. The guarded look doesn’t leave his face, but he does step aside and motion for Lance to come in. The inside of the garage is more of a make-shift science lab than an actual garage. There are pages of writing and equations pinned to a cork-board on the far wall and what looks like dozens of small experiments, though Lance is at a loss with what any of them have to do with each other. One table holds a series of plants under different colored lights. Another is covered in wires and circuit boards. Another holds a centrifuge and a microscope with several plates meticulously labeled, despite the half-hazard way they’re scattered across the table. Still another table holds several bubbling liquids suspended over Bunsen burners. One of the burners does not have anything over it and when Lance looks on the ground next to it, he discovers what the crash he’d heard must have been. The glass shards of a broken beaker are scattered on the floor, coated by some sort of sticky looking green slime.

“You said you were here about an article you found?” Matt asks, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Um… yeah.” Lance pulls the papers from his bag and hands them to Matt. Matt takes one look at the article and shoves the papers back at Lance. 

“You should have stuck with the prank calls. Get out of my lab before I call the cops.”

“I… what?” 

“You don’t think I’ve gotten enough flack about that comment from people whose opinions actually matter? I don’t need people like you coming to my house, just to laugh at me to my face. And another thing—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Lance holds up his hands and takes a step back from the now fuming man in front of him. “You’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not here to make fun of you. I… I believe in this stuff. I just came here to see if you knew more about it.”

Matt still looks suspicious, but he’s not yelling anymore. That’s something at least. He crosses his arms. 

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know exactly what you saw. Could you see what the creature was? Did you see him grab Cara? Did you ever find out anything else about it?”

Matt considers him for a moment. Finally, seeming to accept that Lance’s curiosity is genuine, he sighs. 

“I didn’t see much that day. Probably wouldn’t have even believed what I did see if it hadn’t been for my research.”

“Research into what?”

“Paranormal studies. All the things science isn’t quite ready to explain yet. I was taking readings on the bridge, looking for ghosts, actually. A lot of people have killed themselves in that spot over the years.” Matt unfolds his arms and crosses the room to the table full of wires and machine parts. He picks up an iPad, showing Lance several charts and data tables that he doesn’t understand even a little. “I haven’t found any evidence of specific hauntings, but the fact that so many people have committed suicide there is peculiar in and of itself. That’s why I was there that day. When I saw the girl, I actually thought she might be a ghost at first, but she wasn’t giving off any readings. That’s when I realized she was a jumper. I tried to say something to her, but it was too late. She had already jumped. When I looked over the edge, that’s when I saw the creature. It was only for a second, then it disappeared. I called 911, but of course, it was too late. When they found the body, they said her skull had been smashed, said she must have hit some rocks, but there is no way that could have happened naturally. The entire bay floor has been mapped by sonar. The area where she jumped is way too deep for her to have hit anything. The friction from the water would have slowed her descent long before she reached the ocean floor. The only explanation is that something must have done that to her. Of course, no-one believed me. There were no tooth or claw marks on her body, so they dismissed what I saw right away, but I’m sure of it. Something killed that girl, something that no one has ever seen before and I… hey, are you OK?”

No, Lance was definitely not OK. He felt sick. Still, he needed to know. 

“You said in the article that the thing you saw looked like a fish of some sort.”

“That was a misquote, actually. I just said it was some sort of aquatic creature.”

“What… what exactly did you see?”

“Just this… serpentine body, black. There were dorsal and adipose ray-fins, also black, but the caudal fin definitely had some purple. Of course, that could have been a trick of the light. The creature had these markings along both sides, purple stripes that came together right at the tail. They looked like they might be slightly bioluminescent, so it’s possible that the purple I saw on the tail fin was just a reflection. And the thing was huge. Bigger than any fish I’ve seen in that bay. Had to be at least a meter, if not two meters long.”

If Lance had had any doubt before, it was gone now. Matt was describing Keith. The color, the markings... He’s not surprised by any of this. Keith told him, after all. He admitted it right to Lance’s face. It’s still difficult to hear. 

“Did you ever find anything else?”

“No, unfortunately not. I mean, there have been plenty of suspicious deaths in that bay, but no other sightings of a giant fish, if that’s what you’re asking. Or at least, nothing that didn’t turn out to just be a dolphin or a shark…” Matt trails off, studying Lance’s face. “Why? What were you hoping to find?”

“I don’t know. Closure, I guess.” 

“You knew Cara?”

“Not really. She was in my class, but we never really spoke.”

“So what did you need closure for?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Wait, have you seen this thing?” Matt’s eyes practically light up and suddenly he’s scooping up a notepad, scribbling something down as questions tumble out of his mouth. “Where was it? What did it look like! Did it have the same markings or was this a different one? Did you see more or just the one? How close were you? Did you see the head? Did it attack someone?”

“No, it didn’t… I mean, I didn’t… I haven’t seen it.”

Matt frowns. 

“You’re lying.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Yes you have. You’re a worse liar than my sister.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Lance, come on! If you just tell me the truth, I can help you find your closure. We could even go out and find this thing again.”

“No!”

Matt blinks at Lance’s outburst, surprised. 

“I mean… I just meant, I don’t need that. I’m fine.”

Matt is silent for a few moments longer before he speaks again, this time softer, tentative. “Maybe I’m overstepping, but… you don’t look like someone who’s fine.”

“Yeah, and you’re an expert on that?”

“No. Just someone who has spent a long time not being fine either.” 

Lance doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t need to know. He has enough problems of his own right now. 

“My sister died,” Matt says, finally putting his notepad back down. 

“I’m sorry.” Lance feels like an idiot saying it. How many people had said those words to him in hushed tones after the accident? It didn’t help. It didn’t even come close to helping. But as much time as Lance had spent, wishing people would say something different, here in this moment, on the other side, it’s all he can think of. “How long ago?”

“Five—no, six years.”

“And you’re still… ”

“She’s always with me.” Matt smiles, a sad fondness stretching over his face. “Every day. In the work and in my memories… Sometimes it’s nice, but it’s always painful.”

“I lost my family this year.” Lance doesn’t know why he’s telling Matt, but the words tumble out of his mouth regardless. “My mom, dad, sister, brother. All at once.”

“I’m sorry. If you ever need someone to talk to…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“OK. But still, if you ever do, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks.”

The silence stretches until Lance starts to feel uncomfortable. What the hell is he doing here, telling his life story to a complete stranger? This business with Keith has him all turned around, confused and reaching out for answers, but this is ridiculous. He could only imagine how awkward Matt must feel, trapped in a garage with a depressed and volatile teenager, forcing him into an impromptu therapy session about dead family members. 

“I should go. Thanks for your help.”

“I’ll keep looking. I’ll let you know if I find anything. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you were looking for, whatever that was.”

“No, it’s… it was helpful,” Lance says. Matt laughs. 

“Yeah, sure it was. Like I said, you’re a terrible liar.”

Matt glances out the window, a smile still on his lips. Lance studies the other man’s face while he’s distracted. He wonders if he’ll ever get to that point in his life, not necessarily over the loss of his family, but functional at least, able to be happy or at the very least content with life. Matt’s reflection stares back at him through the window. Except… Matt’s reflection is wearing glasses. 

“What the—”

Matt looks back at Lance, sees his stunned expression, then turns back to the window, where whoever is outside is now staring in Lance’s direction.

“What?” Matt asks, looking back at Lance. He can’t see them, Lance realizes. That can only mean one thing.

“I uh, I just realized what time it is. I have to go before I’m late for.. the thing… that I’m doing. Tonight. I uh, I’ll see you around.”

Lance runs to the door, nearly ripping it off the frame in his rush. He’s just in time to see a short figure with orange hair disappear into the woods. Lance follows, just barely able to keep the girl in sight. He almost loses her a few times, but always manages to catch sight of that bright mop of hair. Finally, he seems to be gaining on her. She makes a break towards a clearing, then comes to a stop, spinning to face Lance. He’s so surprised that he almost trips over his own feet, just barely managing to catch his balance and keep from crashing straight into her. 

They just stand there for a minute, staring. Lance is panting hard. He hasn’t run like that since he was in school and still on the track team. The girl in front of him doesn’t look winded at all. At least, Lance assumes she’s a girl. The khaki shorts and green hoodie don’t scream out any particular gender and neither does her short-cropped hair, but Lance is pretty sure he knows who she is. 

“You… you’re one of those spirit things, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?”

“You just have that look. Also you ran straight through a tree trunk back there.”

The girl grins. 

“Busted.”

“So did they send you to spy on me this time or were you there to see your brother?”

The smile drops from the girl’s face.

“Not as dumb as you look, I guess.”

Lance is a little offended, but he has more important things to focus on. 

“How long have you been watching him?”

“Since I died. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So… he has no idea you’re here? Even though he’s been studying supernatural forces in this town for years now?”

“I mean, I think he can sense me sometimes, but in terms of outright detection, he doesn’t’ seem to be making much progress.”

“So, I’m wasting my time here is what you’re telling me?”

The girl shrugs. 

“I guess that depends on what you’re trying to learn. Detection doesn’t seem to be a problem for you, so maybe the real issue is that you’re asking him the wrong questions.”

“Or maybe the real issue is a bunch of snooty spirits refusing to tell me what THEY know.”

The girl laughs. 

“It’s a distinct possibility. I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“Fine, then why don’t you prove me wrong and tell me something useful!”

“Coran.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Coran.”

“What the hell is Coran?”

“You asked for something useful. Coran.”

“How is that even remotely useful?”

“Figure it out. I’m not going to do all the work for you.”

The girl turns away and starts to walk towards the edge of the clearing. 

“Wait! What’s your name?”

The girl pauses at the edge of the clearing, looking back over her shoulder. 

“You can call me Pidge.”

She turns back around and steps into the shadow, her body disappearing completely. 

Lance shakes his head. It looks like Hunk was right about being the least cryptic spirit he was likely to meet. He turns around to head back to civilization, but then he realizes… he has no idea which direction he came from. He glances back in the direction Pidge disappeared. 

“Umm… A little help?”

There’s a rustling of leaves just to the right. When lance doesn’t move, the rustle comes again, somehow managing to sound impatient. Lance is pretty sure following a disembodied wind through the forest isn’t one of the best decisions he’s ever made, but it’s definitely not the worst. He makes it back to the edge of the woods just as dusk is beginning to set in, one word rolling around in his head the entire time: Coran. 

He should just drop it. He got the answer he was looking for today. Keith is a monster and he doesn’t deserve any more of Lance’s time or attention. He gets in his car and starts the engine, fingers tapping against the steering wheel distractedly. He tells himself that he knows enough. He can move on now. He’s done. 

Matt was right. Lance is a terrible liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not completely happy with this chapter, but it was getting to that point where I knew I'd have to post it and move on or just be stuck here completely, so... hopefully the exposition wasn't too clunky to make your way for. 
> 
> Next chapter: Lance meets Coran, dives even deeper into one of the oldest mysteries in Altea, and comes up with a plan.


	5. Lost In the Pages of Self-Made Cages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes into full-on research mode, with the help of some friends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. This chapter was a beast to write. Lots of build up and a couple more mysteries... because we definitely don't have enough so far.

Lance expects his search to take a while; hours, maybe even days. Instead, it’s the first result from his google search: Coran’s. It’s a bookstore in downtown Altea, specializing in local history. Lance stares at the computer. It can’t possibly be this easy, can it? He glances at the clock. The store won’t be open for another hour. Lance doesn’t even know what he’d be looking for there. He doesn’t even know if this is what Pidge was talking about. He taps his finger against the side of his laptop. The restless energy from the day before still hasn’t dissipated. It stayed with him all through the night, making him toss and turn and, for once, eager to get out of bed the next morning. Making up his mind, Lance grabs his keys. There’s a coffee shop just down the street from Coran’s where he can kill some time if he needs to. He just can’t sit still any longer. 

He finds a parking space just across the street from the store. It’s still early enough that the only people downtown are blurry-eyed customers grabbing their morning coffee and equally exhausted shop owners, starting to put out their signs for the day. Lance hasn’t been to this area much. It’s mostly touristy shops and overpriced restaurants. A bell jingles close by. Lance glances at Coran’s just in time to see a man with shockingly orange hair slip into the building. He watches as the man pulls open the curtains on the window, adjusting a few of the books on display, before bending down to switch on the neon “OPEN” sign. Lance glances at the clock. It’s not quite 9:00 yet, but the sign does say they’re open. 

He gets out of his car and darts across the street without bothering to check for traffic. The little bell above the door jingles again as he enters the store and that bright orange head pops up from behind the counter. 

“Ah! Good morning!” 

Lance doesn’t respond immediately, thrown off by both the man’s friendliness and the giant, bushy, orange mustache wiggling around on his face as he speaks. He’s not old – or at least, not as old as you’d expect someone with an impressive handlebar mustache to be – but he’s definitely old enough to make his energy and spryness unexpected. As if to cement Lance’s first impression, the man ducks through a gap under the counter, then pops back up to his full height, spreading his arms wide. 

“Welcome to my store. What may I help you find today?”

“Um… I’m not really sure. A friend suggested I come here. Are you… Are you Coran?”

“The one and only!”

“Oh.” Lance glances around the shop, looking for some sign of why Pidge would have sent him here. The shelves are packed with books and they don’t seem to have much of an order to them. He spots a Harry Potter book squeezed onto a shelf next to a recipe book for Southern Cooking. Even if Lance did know what he was looking for, the odds of him finding it seemed… well, slim. 

“Now my boy, you said your friend sent you? What exactly were they sending you to find?”

“Um…” Lance mind flashes back to the store description he’d read online. “I think just general… local history?” 

If possible, those words make Coran beam even brighter. 

“Of course! Of course! Those collections would be upstairs. Come with me!” He motions for Lance to follow him before taking the stairs behind the register two at a time. They lead to a balcony of sorts that wraps around the length of the shop. Near the back are two large tables. One is scattered with books, while the other displays a large map of the island. It looks like a recreation of something much older and Lance doesn’t recognize any of the names. Even more bookshelves are behind these tables, lined up in even rows. The unorganized and unruly shop below seems oddly out of place against the pristine and carefully cared for collection here. 

Coran has already disappeared between two of the shelves, muttering beneath his breath. A moment later, he emerges with three books in his hand. 

“Now, I’m not sure how deeply you’re interested in looking, but I have here some excellent starter books. This book covers the more modern history from the 19th century through almost present day – an excellent resource if you’re looking for local heroes for a school report or the like. This book is less history, more social studies, covering local culture and customs both modern and ancient. This book covers Altean legends and mythology and how they have evolved through the years.” 

The bell on the door jingles again. Lance and Coran both look up to see a middle-aged couple enter the store. The man is wearing a bright, Hawaiian print shirt. The woman is dressed in similarly bright colors, though without the obnoxious pattern. She is, however, sporting a bright pink visor. Clearly tourists. Coran sets the books on the table without the map and heads towards the stairs. 

“You just look around, my boy. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

While Coran occupies himself with attending to his new customers, Lance flips through the three books. The one on mythology seems the most promising, but there’s no mention of mermaids. There is a brief mention of Altean spirits acting as guides to the living, but the rest of the book focuses on some sort of eternal battle between the Altean nature gods and evil spirits. As annoying as Allura and Shiro are, Lance would hardly call them “evil.” Pidge and Hunk definitely didn’t fit that description either, so Lance moves on to the social studies book. Completely useless. The modern history book at least includes a brief section about the bridge between Altea and the mainland. Lance scans each page for any mention of Keith or any strange occurrences or deaths. Nothing. Instead, the chapter focuses on the influx of immigrants from all over the world to help construct the bridge and the political scandal surrounding the mayor that commissioned it – an affair, and illegitimate son who was tried, though not convicted, for “moral indecency.” A juicy story to be sure, but not what Lance is looking for. 

Beginning to feel lost again, Lance closes the last of the books. Coran is helping a second set of customers who had come in while the first were still browsing. It’s a family with two small children and two very frazzled looking parents. Coran is currently pulling books from a shelf to show the two kids and it looks like he may be a while. Lance begins to wander through the shelves, looking for anything that sounds even remotely promising. 

By the time the bell on the door jingles again, signaling the exit of the last customer, Lance has built up quite a collection of books on his table. He’s a little worried that Coran will be angry when he sees it. After all, it’s not like Lance is planning to buy all twenty-some-odd books. Coran is just going to have to re-shelve all of this as soon as Lance leaves. Instead of looking angry or frustrated, however, Coran beams when he sees the stacks of books. 

“It seems you’ve found what you were looking for.”

“I guess. I’m not really sure, to be honest.”

“Well perhaps I can help you narrow down your search. Ask me any question about Altean history and I will find you a book that has the answer. I have the finest collection of historical knowledge on the Altean civilization and I myself am part Altean, you know.” 

“Really?” Lance looks doubtfully between Coran with his pale skin and fiery hair and the dark skinned, fair haired images on the Ancient History books he has collected. “You don’t really look Altean…”

“Well, I am of course several generations removed, but I’ll have you know that I am a direct descendant of the famed Princess Allura!” 

Lance nearly drops the book he’s holding. 

“Wait… did you say Allura?

“Ah! Heard of her, have you? She is, perhaps, the most famous of all Alteans. Many a tale has been told about the princess who saved the world. Mind you, most believe the stories are nothing more than hyperbole and some doubt the existence of the Princess altogether, but through my research, I have determined that she not only lived, but that she was, as I’ve said, one of my direct, genealogical ancestors! How’s that for an impressive pedigree, eh?” 

Lance glances at the faces on the books in front of him. Dark skin. Pale hair. Lance had assumed, of course, that Allura was probably Altean, but he’d never considered that she might be famous. 

“Do you… do you have any pictures of her by any chance?” 

“No photographs, I’m afraid. She lived nearly 500 years ago! However, there are several paintings of her. Let me see… Ah! Here.” 

Coran pulls a large book onto the table and flips through it for a few seconds until he reaches a page with two pictures. One is a highly stylized photo of a woman with long, blond hair, wearing a pink dress and holding a golden staff as silvery light dances around her. She also appears to have several extra arms. The second picture is a family portrait, showing a man and a woman with a young girl standing between them. This picture is not colored. It’s more of a sketch, really, and not a very detailed one at that. Then Coran turns the page. The face staring back at lance could very well have been a photograph with all the detail depicted there. Perhaps the cheekbones are not as high, the ears not so elongated, and the hair not quite so voluminous, but every other aspect of Allura is rendered in picture perfect detail on the page before him.

“My boy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I just… I’m just surprised, is all,” Lance says, trying to grasp some excuse more believable than the fact that he really has seen a ghost. “She’s really pretty.” 

“Our princess was the most beautiful woman in all of history, I’d wager.” 

“So… what exactly made her so famous?” 

“You don’t know? I thought you’d said you’d heard of her.” 

“Just the name. Someone mentioned it to me a long time ago. I can’t remember why,” Lance lies. 

“Well, the princess was the most important Altean in history. Throughout the centuries, Alteans have been the Earth’s fiercest guardians, traveling across land and water to protect all mankind from supernatural threats.” 

“You’d think that would have come up in history class,” Lance mutters, a little frustrated by Coran’s over-exaggeration. He wants facts, not stories. 

“Well, there are those who deny this history. The more common narrative is that they were merely well traveled merchants, despite the frequent references in both Altean and non-Altean sources to the paladins.” 

“The what?” 

“Paladins. They were the guardians I mentioned earlier. They protected the world.” 

“So Allura was one of these Paladins?” 

“Not just any paladin. She was the last paladin, and certainly the most important. She ended the threat from the dark world.” 

“The dark world?” 

“Contemporary scholars often refer to it as hell, but that’s a rather reductive view of Altean theological beliefs. The dark world is not an afterlife. It was more of an invasive force, the root of all evil and suffering.” 

“I hate to break it to you, but it doesn’t seem like Allura did a very good job of eradicating evil and suffering from the world.” 

“No no no, the dark world exists and always will exist. Its effects seep into our own world and poison people’s hearts. But people can be dealt with by other people. The monsters that came from the dark realm, those required the power of Voltron.” 

“Voltron? Sounds like a robot from some 80’s cartoon or something.” 

“It is no robot. It is the Altean deity. Or perhaps more specifically, a assembly of deities. The Alteans worshiped minor nature gods. Collectively, the gods were known as Voltron, a single deity with many aspects. Voltron was the source of a Paladin’s power and with that strength, they defended the planet for centuries. But as the battle raged, the demons grew stronger. Allura knew that if the threat were not contained, the darkness would consume the earth and blot out the sun and the stars. She came up with a plan to stop them. She gave her life in a ritual to seal all portals between the dark world and ours, thus becoming not only a defender of the earth, but a defender of the universe.” 

“Seriously? I mean, not to be disrespectful to your beliefs or anything, but a 14th century princess saves the entire universe from demons? Sounds like a bad sci-fi novel.” 

“You are not the first to cast dispersions on my research and I assure you that you will not be the last. However, this is my bookstore and, if you must make fun of my work, I must ask you to leave at once.” 

Lance raises his hands in surrender. 

“I’m sorry, this is just all… really new to me.”

Coran relaxes slightly, though he still looks irritated. 

An hour later, Coran is ringing up five books for Lance. One book is entirely about Allura. Two more cover Altean mythology and monsters. The last two are a history book about the Altean bridge and a book of photographs from the last century. Lance isn’t sure if any of these books will contain the answers he’s looking for, but at least his purchase seems to have cheered up Coran again. 

As he steps out of the shop, Lance reaches into his pocket to fish out his keys. 

“Find anything interesting?” 

“GYAH!” 

Lance’s keys go flying and several people nearby give him wary looks. He quickly scoops his keys up from the sidewalk and makes sure people have stopped staring before he turns to glare at the two ghosts standing on either side of the door to Coran’s. 

“Well?” Pidge asks, not looking sorry at all. 

“A little warning next time would be nice,” Lance hisses. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” Hunk at least has the decency to look appropriately apologetic. Pidge just rolls her eyes and bounces over to where Lance is standing, trying to peer into his bag. 

“What books did you get?”

Lance snatches the bag away from her prying eyes. 

“None of your business! Are you spying on me again?” 

“We wouldn’t have to if someone hadn’t told you about Coran.” Hunk shoots a pointed look at Pidge, who just shrugs. 

“He would have figured it out on his own eventually.” 

Lance is pretty sure he would never have, in a million years, thought to come to this store without Pidge’s nudging, but he doesn’t say anything.

“So… what did he tell you?” Hunk is trying to look casual, but he can’t quite hide his interest. 

“You know, for spies, you’re not very good. If you wanted to hear everything, you should have come inside.” 

“We’re not allowed inside anymore. Allura said so.” Hunk shoots Pidge a look that Lance can’t quite decipher. 

“Why not?”

“We freak Coran out.” Pidge says, not meeting Hunk’s eyes

“Wait, he can see you?” 

“More like sense us.” 

“And that freaks him out?” 

Pidge sighs. 

“No. I accidentally knocked over a bookshelf when we were in there once.” 

“And started a fire,” Hunk adds. 

“A small fire,” Pidge insists. “Also accidentally.” 

“How did you manage that?” 

“I wanted to see if I could push through the veil, make my presence known enough for him to see me. He’s very attuned to the spirit realm and I thought if anyone could see us, it would be him.” 

“But instead you started a fire?” 

“Hey, Coran was the one burning incense. I just accidentally knocked it over.” 

“Now he thinks we’re both unfriendly spirits, even though I never did anything to him in all the years I visited,” Hunk pouts. 

“Wait, so you guys come here a lot?”

“Used to,” they say in unison. 

“Fine, used to. Whatever. Why?” 

“It’s just nice to have someone acknowledge your presence every once in a while.” Hunk smiles back at the building fondly. Coran is just visible through the window, re-shelving the books Lance hadn’t bought. “He was always really kind about it too, saying hello, even though he couldn’t see us, wishing us a nice day, telling us about his day… It just reminded me of being alive.” 

“Oh.”

In all the time since they’d been visiting, Lance had never seriously thought of Hunk and Pidge as dead. Now he’s strangely aware of it. He can’t help but think how lonely it must be, surrounded by people who can’t see you. He remembers the night he met Pidge and wonders which is worse: having your family taken from you completely or being able to see them any time you want, but never able to speak to them or touch them, or even let them know you’re there. And what about Hunk? He’d never spoken of his family. Lance didn’t even know how old Hunk was. Was his family even still alive? How lonely do you have to be to find that kind of comfort in a complete stranger talking to you? 

“Hey, do you guys… maybe want to hang out for a bit?” 

Pidge and Hunk look at him with identical expressions of shock. Hunk wrings his hands a bit, glancing at Pidge, then back at Lance. 

“We should really go. Allura wouldn’t like it if we –“ 

“Is she watching us right now?” Lance interrupts. 

“No.” 

“Good. Then what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” 

“I guess,” Hunk says, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

 

*****

 

Lance can’t remember the last time he had this much fun. When they get back to his house, they turn on the cheesiest movie they can find on TV and proceed to joke and laugh their way through the entire thing. Pidge and Hunk keep making pop culture references too old for Keith to understand. When he realizes they’re doing it on purpose just to annoy him, he tosses a handful of popcorn in their direction. It passes harmlessly through their bodies, but Hunk still looks offended. Pidge, on the other hand, sweeps her hand across the floor, sending the popcorn flying back in Lance’s direction. Her aim is terrible and the popcorn barely moves a couple feet. She tries again, this time with even less success. It looks so ridiculous that Lance nearly falls off the couch with how hard he’s laughing. A moment later, a pillow hits Lance square in the face. He stares back at Pidge, who is looking victorious, and Hunk who is snickering behind her back. 

“Oh, it’s on now!” Lance shouts, grabbing pillows and sending them flying. Hunk and Pidge dodge out of the way, even though they all know the pillows can’t hit them anyway. Five minutes later, Lance is laying on the floor, exhausted. A pillow fight with a pair of ghosts is harder than he thought it would be. Pidge and Hunk are laughing like this is the most fun they’ve had in decades. Hunk is doubled over on the floor, gasping for breath that he doesn’t need. Still laughing, he slams his palm to the ground and the entire room shakes. 

All laughter stops. Lance bolts upright and looks at Hunk, confused. Hunk is staring at Pidge, a look of horror on his face. 

“What the hell was that?” Lance asks. 

“I’m sorry. I –“ 

“Hunk, we should go,” Pidge interrupts, pulling him to his feet. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“Come on, before –“ 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing!” 

Lance spins around. Allura and Shiro are standing in the doorway. Shiro merely looks disappointed, but Allura looks furious.

“Do you want to alert the entire island to your presence!” Lance flinches at the fury in her voice and glances over to Hunk, who is looking anxious as ever. 

“I’m sorry, it was an accident. We were just –“ 

“You were just leaving.” 

Hunk shoots Lance an apologetic look before flickering out of sight. Pidge follows him a second later. It’s not fair. They didn’t hurt anything. Everyone is fine. There’s no reason for Allura to be this upset. 

“We were just having fun,” Lance says, turning to glare at Allura.

“They cannot afford to have fun. They know the risks. They know the danger they could have put you in. There is no excuse.” 

“What risks! Nothing happened!”

“Allura, maybe we should—” Shiro places a hand on Allura’s arm, but she cuts him off with a glare. 

“No! You need to stop asking questions, Lance. Stop trying to force your way into this world and live in your own or you’ll end up just like h— ” Allura bites off the end of her sentence, looking uncertain for just a moment before the anger returns. 

“End up like who?”

Allura ignores Lance’s question. 

“Forget about this world, Lance. You are alive. Live your life. Stop chasing the dead.” 

Apparently done speaking and completely uninterested in anything Lance has to say to defend himself, Allura disappears. Shiro remains, looking for a moment like he’s going to say something. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Lance says, and he can hear the frustration in his voice. “Just leave me alone.”

Shiro sighs and fades away as well, leaving Lance by himself. His whole body is shaking now, hands balled into fists. He doesn’t even realize that there are tears in his eyes until they begin blurring his vision. Lance doesn’t want to cry, though. He’s done being sad and feeling sorry for himself. He wants a target for these feelings. He spots his bag from Coran. It had fallen off the table, a result of the pillow fight or the subsequent earthquake. Allura’s face stares back at him from the cover of one book and Lance feels that anger bubble over. 

Lance had spent months feeling like he had one foot in the grave, months chasing the memories of his dead family, and then Keith came along. Keith, who was dead, but not dead, and something inside Lance had finally snapped back into place. He felt alive again. He wanted to be alive again. Allura and Shiro had taken that away from him and now, when he found a way to feel that again, when he found friends that didn’t look at him with pain and pity, Allura was taking that away too. How dare she tell him how to live when she seemed hell bent on taking away the only things that made him want to. 

Lance picks up the book and throws it at the wall as hard as he can. A heavy thump and small dent are his only rewards. It makes him feel a little better, but not much. 

“Screw you,” he mutters at the crumpled pages of the book. “I’m going to find out whatever it is you’re hiding. Just try to stop me.” 

 

*****

 

Lance spends the next three days pouring over books at Coran’s. Coran provides what occasional help he can in between helping other customers, but by the end of the first day, Lance realizes he’s going to need someone else. He calls Matt on the morning of the second day and they meet outside the bookshop. Matt and Coran hit it off at once, discussing various myths and local legends in far too much detail for Lance to follow properly. He leaves them to it and starts combing through the stacks on his own until a customer walks in and Matt is free to join him. 

“So, you never did tell me what this was all about.” Matt says, pulling a book from a shelf at random and thumbing through it. 

“Same thing as when I came to see you. Ghosts. Monsters. Mermaids.”

“Mermaids?” Matt asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Oh. Right. Lance hadn’t actually mentioned that the first time. 

“I just mean… all kinds of monsters.”

“Mermaids aren’t usually considered monsters.”

“Whatever. Just help me look, will you?” 

Lance can feel Matt’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t turn around. He knows Matt has questions, but if Lance tells him the truth, him might not help. Better to be kept in the dark. Finally, Matt leaves Lance to start looking through the card file. It’s an old-fashioned system and, to be honest, Lance had never learned how to use one properly in school, so he hadn’t spent much time with it here either. Better to just scan the book titles for something that looks promising. Matt helps without saying much, but he keeps shooting Lance strange looks. On the morning of the third day, Coran and Matt are already waiting for him when he arrives at the shop. 

“Lance, we need to talk.” Matt’s tone puts Lance on edge. It’s the same tone people had used to tell him that he really should be ready to move on after his family’s deaths, that he needed to find a healthy outlet for his grief. It’s the tone people take when they already know you aren’t going to respond well to whatever they say. 

“About what?” Lance asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“We’re just worried.” Matt says, glancing at Coran for encouragement. “You seem kind of… obsessed.”

“I am kind of obsessed.” Lance says with a shrug. “But in case you haven’t noticed, you guys are too. You have a whole lab in your garage dedicated to finding proof of the supernatural,” he says, gesturing to Matt. “And you,” he says, turning to Coran, “have an entire library worth of books on local history that no one but me has expressed any interest in since I got here. Neither of you has any business telling me that I’m obsessed because I’ve spent a couple days doing research.” 

“It’s not the time you’ve spent here,” Coran says. “It’s the way you behave when you are here, as if nothing else matters but this.”

“I just need to figure it out. I need to figure it out so I can be done with it.”

“Done with what? Lance, at least tell us what you’re looking for. Then maybe we can help. We can help you find closure, just like you wanted.” Coran shoots Matt a questioning look, but Matt’s focus is entirely on Lance. 

“You won’t believe me if I tell you.” It’s a flimsy excuse and they all know it. There isn’t a single person in that shop who doesn’t believe in something crazy. “Fine. I don’t think you guys would help me if I tell you.”

“That bad, is it?” Coran asks, shaking his head. “Well now I have to insist you tell us before we go any further.”  
Lance licks his lips, studying the two men in front of him. They’re both experts. It’s why he came to them in the first place. He knows they could help if they just trust him, just a bit… 

“I found the monster in the bay.” Lance says. Matt doesn’t look surprised, though Coran looks more than a little confused. “He’s not a monster. Or I mean, he is, but he wasn’t always. He used to be human, but something bad happened to him and now he’s… he’s hurting people. I didn’t know that at first, though. He… he saved me and we became friends, but then these ghosts started visiting me.” Now it’s Matt’s turn to look confused. “They kept telling me that I needed to stay away from him, that he was bad new, and then I found out about all the deaths and disappearances and Cara, and he told me it was all true. But none of it makes sense. I know Keith had done terrible things, but… I can’t bring myself to believe he’s bad. And the ghosts, the way they talk, it’s like there’s something else they’re worried about but they won’t just tell me, so I need to figure it out on my own. I need to know what’s out there. I need to know what Keith is. I need to know why these ghosts keep appearing to me, and I need to know what they’re so afraid of.”

Coran and Matt are staring at Lance. He’s worried that he’s said too much. They’re going to think he’s crazy, that he’s hallucinating and needs to be sent to a mental hospital. 

“Well,” Coran says slowly. “I understand why you were afraid we wouldn’t believe you, but I must say I’m a little confused at why you believe we won’t help you.”

“I don’t want to hurt Keith.” Lance says. “The mermaid. I don’t… I know he’s hurting people, but I can’t be responsible for his death. I just… I just want to understand.”

Coran and Matt share a look. Matt is the next to speak. 

“Lance, it sounds like Keith is dangerous,” Lance opens his mouth to disagree, but Matt rushes on. “I know you said he saved your life, and he might not be evil, but he’s killed at least one person. We won’t tell anyone about him yet, but maybe you should keep your distance until we figure out what’s really going on here, OK?”

“I haven’t seen him in days anyway.” Lance says, a little more defensively than he intends. 

“OK, good.” Matt smiles, tentatively. “Then I guess it’s time to get back to researching, right?”

“You mean… you’re going to help me?”

“Of course we are!” Coran says, looking a little surprised. “That was never in question.”

“Friends always help each other out,” Matt says, throwing an arm over Lance’s shoulders and leading him to the stairs. 

Friends. Lance can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth. He really does have the strangest luck with friends. His first friend in months turned out to be a killer mermaid. His second friends were ghosts. Now he’s friends with a 30 year old paranormal investigator and a middle aged historian. He should probably feel self-conscious about this strange turn of events, but the only thing he really feels is grateful. He’d never admit to Allura that she was right, but it feels good to have friends who are alive. They’re not normal by any stretch of the imagination, but everything about them feels more solid than Pidge, Hunk, or even Keith ever had. 

By the time Matt and Lance leave, it’s nearly midnight. Now that Coran had a better idea of what they were looking for, he had managed to produce several dozen relevant books on the subject and he had already contacted a friend at the university library to procure more books for the next day. Lance is feeling more hopeful than he has since he started this search. He waves goodbye to Matt and gets in his car, completely unaware of the figure watching him from the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, am I glad you guys stuck with me through this chapter. I struggled so much writing this. It felt so boring to me, but there’s a ton of really important information here that we had to get through to make it anywhere in this story. Reading it over again, I feel a little guilty about how un-sympathetic Allura seems here, but don’t worry. She’s not a bad person. She has her reasons! Also if you’re missing Keith, not to worry. He shows up again in the next chapter. There are also a couple vague references in this chapter to some upcoming revelations...


	6. Dig Up the Bones But Leave the Soul Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's search continues and he comes to an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, it's finally finished! I swear, I rewrote, reordered, and just generally redid this chapter so many times before I was satisfied with it. I hope you guys like it and check out the final note at the end for some bonus material.

The problem with Matt and Coran is that they know too much. It’s information over-kill. They’re constantly expanding on any topic Lance brings up, regardless of whether the things they’re saying are even remotely helpful to Lance’s research. The result is that it takes nearly three days for them to finally stumble upon anything that has to do with Keith. 

Lance is flipping through yet another history of the Altean Bridge. This particular book is filled with photos. He doesn’t pay much attention to the actual words, choosing instead to squint at the blurry pictures, hoping to pick Keith’s face out of the crowds. This approach hasn’t been particularly helpful so far, but it sure beats the academic bullshit that Matt has been combing through for the better part of the afternoon. 

“It’s no use,” Matt mutters, slamming his book closed. “This guy is supposed to be an expert on Altean mythology, but the only monsters he talks about are vampires. No mermaids. No ghosts. Just vampires.” 

Coran leans forward to glance at the cover and scoffs. “I’d hardly classify Skovek as an expert. The man was barely even capable of reading Altean, let alone offering anything particularly insightful about the culture as a whole.”

“Then why do you stock his books in your store?”

“His history may not be particularly noteworthy, but his poetry is absolutely exquisite! There’s a piece about the poisoning of the dark lands that will take your breath away. A rather fictitious interpretation of the Altean creation myth, but beautiful regardless.”

“Coran, please stay focused!” 

Coran looks only slightly contrite, but he nods in agreement. 

“You’re right. We are, after all, on a mission. What can I bring you? Another book on the bridge? Or perhaps a more informative book on the Galra?”

Lance’s head snaps up. 

“The what?” 

“The vampires,” Matt says, gesturing at the book in front of him. “Galra is the Altean word for vampire.”

Lance snatches the book from Matt’s hands. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d found something about the Galra!”

Matt glances at Coran, clearly confused. 

“Because you never told us you were looking for vampires?” 

“No, not vampires. Galra. That’s what the ghosts called Keith.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You said Keith is a mermaid. The Galra are vampires.”

“Not necessarily.” Coran disappears behind a shelf, his voice slightly muffled as he continues to explain. “Galra is merely a generic Altean word for monster. It appears with in all manner of uses, everything from specific mythological creatures to a derogatory term for someone who acts particularly evil.” 

Coran finally reemerges with a very familiar looking book. Allura’s face stares at Lance from the cover, looking very stern, though slightly less rumpled than the copy sitting in his house. He’d been too angry with Allura to read anything about her all week. Apparently that had been a mistake. 

“The most common usage of the term,” Coran says, opening the book, “is in reference to the creatures from the dark lands, the very same creatures that Allura is said to have defeated five hundred years ago. They were invading the earth, you see, and the Altean Paladins were being spread thinner and thinner in an attempt to contain the threat. Altea’s alchemists came up with a plan. Allura, as the leader of the Paladins and a member of the royal family had the strongest connection to Voltron, so she volunteered to be at the center of the ritual, to give her life to close the rifts between worlds.”

“But Keith isn’t from the dark lands and he’s not five-hundred years old. He was human once.”

“It is possible that the term has other meanings that have been lost over the years,” Coran admits. 

“Lost? How could a word’s meaning be lost?”

“Lance, Altean history is fragmented, at best. The ritual Allura performed set off a volcanic eruption that forced Alteans to flee the island for almost two-hundred years. In that time, our people were scattered across the planet. Our traditions and our language were passed down from generation to generation, but each time, pieces were lost. What we know now is based more on the study of Altean artifacts and what few surviving documents have been found. There’s quite a bit that’s been lost. It’s possible your spirit friends are using one of these lost meanings. Or perhaps they have created a new meaning of their own.”

“But, if that’s true… then these books are useless.” 

“We don’t know that, Lance. We should keep looking. Now that we know what we’re looking for, we may find—” a soft jingle interrupts Coran. All three men glance downstairs to see a group of teenagers walk into the shop. Coran shoots Lance a worried look, like he wants to say more, but Lance knows he’ll never leave unsupervised adolescents wander around his store. “Don’t move. I will be right back.” Coran hurries down the stairs, a bright, albeit slightly forced, smile plastered across his face. 

“I think I need some air.”

“Lance, Coran’s right. I’m sure we can find something. We just need to keep looking.”

Lance shakes his head. That familiar, suffocating, tightness is building up in his chest again. His muscles and skin feel tight, filled with energy, yet frozen in place. 

“I just need some air,” he repeats, pushing past Matt. He heads to the back of the room, passing by hundreds of books. He’d been so sure they’d find the answers in one of them, but now... 

Past the last shelf is a door that leads to the roof. Lance pushes it open and steps outside, squinting in the harsh light. It’s late afternoon and the streets are swarming with tourists, their voices a distant rumble below him. The roof itself is a strange mix of chaotic and meticulous. Four garden boxes, each filled with perfectly even rows of carefully labeled vegetables, lay at one end of the roof. Next to them is a table piled high with every garden tool Lance can imagine, stacked in a precarious heap. At the other end of the roof are stacks of rusted and dented patio furniture. Some of it looks like it’s in the process of being repaired, though other pieces look like they’ve been neglected for years. Lance picks out a half painted but sturdy looking chair and slumps down in it, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands. 

“Rough day?”

Lance doesn’t even bother to look up at Hunk. 

“I thought you were banned from Coran’s.”

“Technically we’re only banned from being inside Coran’s shop. Right now, we’re still outside. Technically.”

“Yeah, well, if you don’t mind, I came up here to be alone.”

“You sure that’s what you want?” 

Lance finally looks at Hunk. He’s a little surprised to see Pidge next to him. She’s not usually this quiet. 

“Unless you’re here to explain what’s going on, then yeah, I want to be alone.”

“OK.”

Lance waits, but neither Hunk nor Pidge make any move to leave. 

“Well?”

“I said OK.” Hunk slips into a chair across from Lance. The chair is missing a leg, but it doesn’t budge an inch as Hunk settles onto it. The benefits of being a ghost, apparently. Pidge stays where she’s at, arms folded. “We’ve been talking and we don’t think Allura’s right about this. It’s not fair to leave you in the dark. You should know what’s out there. For your own safety. So, what do you want to know?” 

“Wait, what?” Lance looks between the two of them. They’re both sporting identical looks of grim determination. This isn’t a joke. “You’re serious. What does Allura think about you doing this?”

“She doesn’t know.” Pidge finally speaks up, crossing the roof and boosting herself up onto a rusty café table. Her feet don’t quite reach the ground and she swings them a bit as she speaks. “Allura’s a bit preoccupied right now, but she won’t be for long. We’ve got ten minutes, at most. What do you want to know?”

“Preoccupied with what?”

Pidge raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s what you want to spend this time talking about?”

Lance shakes his head.

“No.” He has a million questions, but suddenly his mind is blank. Why the hell can’t he think of anything? A gust of wind blows across the roof and an empty seed packet blows right through Pidge’s chest. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What are you guys?” 

Pidge actually rolls her eyes at that. 

“We already told you. Spirits.”

“Yeah, but people die all the time and they’re not all walking the earth. What’s so special about you two?”

“We were chosen,” Hunk says, straightening up with pride. 

“Okay… Chosen by who?”

“By Voltron. We’re her Paladins.”

Lance’s mind flashes back to the armored warriors pictured in the books on ancient Altea. 

“But… the paladins are supposed to be living people.”

“That was a long time ago. Things have changed a lot since then.” 

“You mean the Galra?”

Pidge shakes her head.

“No, it was—” 

“Lance, this gets kind of complicated,” Hunk interrupts. “Are you sure you don’t have other questions you want to ask first?” 

“What is Keith,” Lance asks, without any hesitation this time. “I mean, I know you said he’s a Galra, but aren’t they supposed to be from the Dark Lands?”

“Dark lands?”

“He means Daibazaal,” Pidge clarifies. “And yeah, that’s where they originated, but Allura trapped them there a long time ago. There are only a few Galra still alive who were trapped here when the rift closed. All of the others are more like… hybrids.”

“So how did he become a Galra?”

“We don’t know all the specifics. Allura won’t talk about it much, but we think it has something to do with the fact that he killed himself. I’m sorry, but we really don’t know more than that.” Hunk looks apologetic. Lance is inclined to believe him. He’s less inclined to drop the subject completely. 

“So… wait, if he died… and you died… how come people can’t see you guys, but they can see Keith?”  
Pidge and Hunk look at him blankly. 

“Because he’s not a spirit.” Hunk says. 

“But you said he died.”

“He did die.”

“But just now you said he wasn’t dead.”

“No,” Pidge interjects, “I said he wasn’t a spirit.” 

“So he did die?”

“Yes,” they say in unison. 

“So then why isn’t he a spirit?”

“Because he was cursed.” 

“But if he’s still dead, how can people still see him?”

“He’s not dead,” Hunk says slowly, enunciating his words carefully. “He’s cursed.” 

“What, cursed to be alive?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re telling me he died, but he’s not dead because when he died he was cursed to be alive?”

“Exactly.” Pidge says, looking concerned. “What about this isn’t making sense to you?”

“Literally everything!” Lance collapses back in his chair. This is getting him nowhere. 

“Look,” Pidge says slowly, as if explaining something to an incredibly dim-witted child. “All Galra are cursed. That’s the whole point, usually. They despise this life, but they’re afraid to die, so they become Galra instead. Immortal, but not human. Usually it requires a ritual. It’s intentional. The circumstances of Keith’s death were unusual, though. He wasn’t supposed to die, or at least, he wasn’t supposed to die the way he did. Because of that, he was cut off from the afterlife, but he couldn’t become a spirit either. So instead, the sea took him and cursed him. He became a Galra, something that’s not living or dead. He exists apart from both worlds.”

“But what does that mean, exactly. If the Galra aren’t spirits, then what are they?”

“They’re monsters.” Hunk says. 

Lance sighs. 

“Look, I get that you guys don’t like them, but—”

“No, he means they’re literally monsters. All the horror stories from our world. Vampires, werewolves, sirens, they’re all myths based on the Galra.”

“They feed on people’s negative energy,” Hunk clarifies. “The longer they live as Galra, the more that energy affects them. Before long, they can’t remember what it was like to be a human. They can’t feel human emotions, except for the negative emotions they feed on. They become more violent and more difficult to stop.”

“What do you mean more difficult to stop? Do you guys fight Galra?”

“Yeah.” For the first time since they arrived, Hunk’s familiar broad smile flashes onto his face. “What do you think we’re even here for? That’s why we were chosen!”

“Allura thinks it’s a way of maintaining the balance. That’s why Voltron wouldn’t let her cross over into the land of the dead. The ritual she performed protected most of the world, but it couldn’t close all of the rifts completely. The spot where the ritual took place remains vulnerable. The veil is thin here. The Galra can’t cross over, but they can still infect this world. That’s why-- ”

“You two shouldn’t be here.” 

Startled, Lance jumped to his feet at the same time as Hunk and Pidge. Shiro is standing next to the planters, hands on his hips. He doesn’t look mad, just disappointed. 

“Shiro, we thought you were helping Allura.”

“She’s finishing things up on her own. You two should leave. She’ll be far more upset to find you here after explicitly ordering you two to keep your distance.”

“He deserves to know.” Pidge’s fists are clenched and she’s staring at Shiro with pure defiance. 

“Pidge is right.” Hunk says, slightly less forceful, but no less determined. 

Shiro’s eyes narrow. His disappointment turning to something else, something darker. 

“Did you two ever wonder why Allura and I kept our distance from you while you were alive? How do you think the Galra knew to target Keith in the first place?”

Hunk and Lance exchange confused glances, but Pidge is staring at Shiro, her eyes narrowed. She looks between Lance and Shiro, understanding suddenly dawning on her face. 

“But,” Pidge says slowly, “That means Keith—”

“Stop! You two have done enough damage here.” 

Lance can’t quite read the look on Pidge’s face, but she nods in acceptance, starting to fade from sight. 

“Wait!” Lance yells, reaching out to grab onto her before remembering that won’t do any good. Instead, he turns to Hunk. “This isn’t fair. You promised to explain what was going on.” 

Hunk glances at Shiro uncertainly. 

“I think maybe we need to talk it over more.”

“No!”

It’s too late though. Hunk begins to fade as well. Lance spins around to face Shiro, but now he’s gone too, leaving Lance alone with more questions than answers. 

He storms back inside to find Coran back upstairs with Matt. Coran is busily pulling out new stacks of books. Meanwhile, Matt appears to have abandoned his book on Galra mythology in favor of flipping through the book of photos Lance had left behind. 

Lance sits down at the table. Coran pats him on the shoulder and Matt gives him a tentative smile, though neither man attempts to talk to him. Lance is glad. There’s too much going through his head and he doesn’t even know where to start. He just needs to lay it all out. He grabs a notebook and pen from his bag and quickly starts jotting down notes. Matt looks over curiously, but Lance ignores him. 

Allura had performed a ritual to cut off the Earth from the Dark Lands. Galra couldn’t come through anymore, but they could turn humans into galra somehow? Lance puts a few extra question marks next to that. He’ll need to get more information from Hunk and Pidge when they show up again. If they show up again. Keith is a galra, or at least close enough. The spirits are actually paladins who fight the galra. Except they don’t fight Keith. They just avoid him, it seems. Keith. He used to be human, but something happened, something that Shiro and Allura won’t talk about. Something that made the galra target him specifically. 

Lance frowns down at his notes, chewing on the end of his pen absentmindedly. There’s something there, something that he’s missing. There had to be something about Keith when he was alive that was different from regular people. There had to be something that Shiro and Allura did, something that made them feel responsible for it now. He taps his pen against his notebook, letting his eyes wander over to Matt, who’s still flipping through the book of photos. Matt turns the page and Lance nearly falls out of his seat. 

Keith’s face glares out from the pages of Matt’s book, wearing that familiar look of annoyance that Lance has seen so many times before. The mullet is slightly shorter, but not by much. There’s no mistaking it. That’s Keith. They finally found him. 

Matt is halfway through turning the page again when Lance darts a hand out to stop him. 

“Wait!” 

Lance pulls the book across the table. Keith Kogane, the caption reads. Illegitimate son of Mayor William Powell. Keith wasn’t a bridge worker at all. Instead, he was at the center of the massive scandal that Lance had been skipping over in every history book he’d read, thinking it unimportant. He laughs out loud at this own stupidity. Keith had told him from the beginning that he didn’t really remember anything, just a handful of hundred-year-old fragmented memories he’d been making inferences from.

“Lance, what is it?” Matt is looking at him with concern. Lance realizes he’s grinning. 

“It’s Keith.” He turns the book so Matt can see. “We finally found our mermaid.”

 

*****

 

Mayor Powell was well liked. He had the public’s support, or at least enough of it, to start the most massive public works project that Altea had ever seen. He wanted to build a bridge from the island to the mainland. He argued that this bridge would bring more families to Altea, more visitors, that it would grow their economy and ensure a future for their children. His opponents believed it would be a massive waste of taxpayer money. They believed it would attract too many undesirables who hoped to work on the construction crews and then would never leave the island. For years, they searched for a scandal they hoped could bring the mayor down. Then they found one. 

An illegitimate child, mixed race, the son of an immigrant. That would have been scandal enough, but then word spread of this son’s immoral behaviors, drinking to excess, cavorting with other men, and living above a brothel. Rumors began to spread of the boy’s mother. She had passed away years before, but that didn’t keep her out of the papers. Journalists speculated that she was a prostitute and that Keith had been born in the very same whorehouse he was found living above at the start of this scandal. The reputation of the mayor teetered on the edge of public opinion through all these revelations. Then, the final blow came. 

The boy was mad. He was caught speaking to voices that were not there. He was thrown into an asylum and rumors continued to swirl around the mayor. Madness tended to travel through whole families and suddenly every move the Mayor made was circumspect. His re-election campaign seemed a lost cause. Then Keith escaped. No one knew how the boy got out of his cell, but he made it all the way to the bridge before jumping to his death. Public opinion shifted, almost overnight. The mayor was a sympathetic figure now, a man who had just lost a son. He was elected for one more term before the scandal of a second affair brought him down. 

That is all the history books say about Keith. There are no interviews with him, no attempts to ever get his side of the story. He had been used as a pawn in this political game of chess, his suffering and death forgotten as soon as the game moved on. There is one person who won’t forget, though. 

Lance leans against the guardrail on the bridge. After searching late into the night, combing through several history books to find Keith’s story, Lance had left Coran’s with the intent to return home. Instead, he ended up here. He can’t stop thinking about that night. After everything Keith had gone through, he came here. He stood on this same railing, looked down at the water below, and jumped. Lance traces the scars on his arms, trying to remember what it had felt like. It’s no use, though. His mind is clouded with thoughts of Keith. 

Keith. 

Lance pulls himself up onto the guardrail, one hand holding firm on the cable stretched taunt next to him. He looks down at the dark water below and lets himself think about Keith, standing in this same spot a hundred years ago. He lets himself feel what Keith would have felt: the dread of possibly having to go back to the asylum, the knowledge that his father had disowned him, that the world new his face and would always think the same things of him now. Below, a dark shape moves in the waves. Lance can’t be sure in the darkness, but it looks an awful lot like a mermaid’s tail. His heart aches. 

“Lance, wait!” Shiro is standing a few feet away. “Please don’t do this!” He looks strange and it takes Lance a moment to figure out why. His arm is missing. It simply ends halfway down his bicep, the stumps stretched out towards Lance. As he watches, Shiro lets this arm fall and the rest of it slowly appears again. Shiro can’t cross over, Lance realizes. Whatever allows him to appear in this world ends at the bridge. 

“Lance, please. Don’t jump.”

He blinks, confused. 

“I’m not going to jump.” 

Now it’s Shiro’s turn to look confused. Lance supposes that’s fair based on where he’s standing. He carefully hops off the railing, back down to safety. Shiro visibly sags with relief. 

“I don’t understand. If you didn’t come here to kill yourself, what are you doing?” 

Lance briefly considers telling Shiro to shove it. Let him see how it feels to be kept in the dark for once. Of course, that would end any chance of prying out what little information he can from Shiro now. 

“I figured out who Keith was,” Lance says, watching Shiro’s reaction carefully. There’s a small flicker of movement in his eyes, but other than that, Shiro remains stone faced. “I’ve been looking for him in all the wrong places, but I finally found his story. I read what happened to him and… I guess everything makes more sense now. What he went through. Why he came here.” 

Shiro nods. He walks to the rail, resting his arms against it and staring out at the sea, just as Lance had done earlier. After a moment, he speaks. 

“We couldn’t stop him.” 

Shiro’s voice cracks and Lance is surprised to hear how much emotion is behind those words. 

“He’d been in that asylum for months, being tortured to cure things that were never wrong to begin with. We tried to be there for him, but it was just making things worse. He’d scream at us to leave, the attendants would hear him, and take him for another treatment. We knew we had to get him out, so one night we broke the lock and told him to run. Allura wanted him to leave the island. We knew they’d find him and lock him back up if he stayed here. He argued. He didn’t want to go. Said he didn’t want to leave us, but we insisted. He made it to the bridge. We thought he would cross to the mainland and be safe. Then he stopped running. There was a celebration happening here. The bridge was to be open to the public the very next day. There were so many people there, and he just got lost in the crowd. When Allura finally spotted him, he’d already climbed onto a ledge. I was worried someone would see him. I didn’t even think he might… and then he looked at me and I knew.” 

“He didn’t want to be alone.” Lance says, looking back down at the waves. This time he sees only water. 

“He was too far out, past the barrier. I couldn’t reach him and before I could even say anything, he jumped. Someone screamed. They sent out boats. It was too late, though. He was gone.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Lance says, but Shiro just shakes his head. 

“We should have known. Should have done something sooner. Or at the very least, we should have left him alone from the beginning.” 

“It sounds like the people who went after him would have found something, even if he wasn’t talking to voices.” 

“They went after him because they knew he was important to us. The history books don’t talk about the attempts on his life. They don’t talk about the whispers that started to follow him even as a child, spreading rumors that made the people in his life abandon him, one by one. It wasn’t coincidence. It was the Galra. They tried to get to him any way they could, and in the end it worked. We’ve been careful not to become involved in the lives of the living ever since.” 

“You mean until now?” 

Shiro finally looks at Lance, clearly irritated. 

“We didn’t have a choice.” 

“But why do you guys care so much about me? I mean, Keith has gone after other people. He’s killed other people, but from the way you talk it doesn’t sound like you’ve tried to help any of them.” 

“Direct interference is easier when the person can see you. Or at least, we thought that would be the case. You seem intent on proving us wrong about that.” Shiro still looks irritated, but he manages to crack a wry smile anyway. Lance can’t help but smile back. It’s a nice moment, but it doesn’t last any longer than that. The smile slowly slips from Shiro’s face. “You’re going to try to find him again, aren’t you.” 

Lance’s smile drops as well. 

“I need to talk to him.” 

“Lance, he’s just going to try to confuse you.” 

A bark of laughter escapes Lance’s lips. That’s certainly the understatement of the year. 

“Trust me, he doesn’t need to try. He confuses me just by existing. But I care about him and I’m done denying that. I’m not going to abandon him.” 

“He’s not your responsibility.” 

“No, he isn’t. But that doesn’t change my mind. Are you going to try to stop me?” 

“I won’t.” 

There’s something strange about that answer. Shiro won’t stop him. He didn’t say anything about the others. 

“Will Allura?”

“Probably.” 

Lance nods. He expected that. He starts walking towards his car, but pauses, one more thought on his mind. 

“Shiro… Hunk told me that the Galra get more violent and feel less human emotions the longer they live.” 

“He’s right.” 

“So how do you explain Keith? How do you explain the way he is with me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“He’s different.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can save him.” 

 

*****

 

The ocean had always been a place of comfort for Lance. Where others feared what lay beneath the waves, Lance had never felt more alive than when he was floating in that serene, weightless state. When he was younger, there was never any doubt in his mind that he’d spend his life on the sea. The list of careers changed over the years, everything from marine biologist to boat captain to professional surfer. The one constant was the ocean, a faithful backdrop to all of Lance’s dreams for the future. Then the accident happened and Lance’s dreams for the future melted away. When Keith came into his world, he offered Lance something new. Different, but with a familiar constant. 

As Lance stares out at the ocean now, he thinks about that future. He thinks about Keith. Lance is sitting on the same rocky outcrop he’d met Keith on so many times. He remembers that first day, how sure he’d been that Keith didn’t really exist. He remembers Keith smiling at him after they’d made up from their first fight, right before dousing him with water. He remembers how he felt, looking at Keith’s face, at his smile. He wonders if Keith felt the same way, or if he even could. 

Lance is so lost in his thoughts that, for a moment, he doesn’t realize that the face in his memories has been replaced by reality. Keith’s head bobs in the water, only his eyes and unruly black hair breaking the surface. He studies Lance’s face, but makes no move to come closer. A small flutter erupts in Lance’s chest and he almost smiles. Almost. How is it possible for your heart to beat for someone else and to ache for them at the same time? The weight of their last conversation lies between them and Lance can feel it in Keith’s uncertain gaze. He knows that nothing has changed, and yet nothing feels the same as that night. It’s confusing and complicated and Lance doesn’t have the words to explain it. Instead, he just tells Keith something he knows is true. 

“I missed you.”

Keith hesitates for just a moment before swimming closer. His pulls himself up onto the submerged rocks between Lance’s feet. 

“I missed you too.”

There’s a lock of hair lying across Keith’s forehead, the same stubborn chunk of hair that always falls in his face, whether wet or dry. Lance brushes it aside. It immediately falls back into place. 

“I don’t understand how you can wear your hair this long. It would drive me crazy.” Keith rolls his eyes and for a moment it’s like no time at all has passed, like the fight had never happened. 

“Come on, you never had long hair before?”

“No way. Even when I was a kid, I was the one forcing my parents to take me to the barber every few weeks. I even asked my mom once if I could shave my head.”

“That would have been somethings to see.”

“Luckily she didn’t let me. Pretty sure she knew I would have regretted it instantly.” As his laughter trails off, he feels that stab of pain that always comes with thinking of his family. It’s just as strong as always, but also familiar. He doesn’t know why that familiarity gives him a little bit of comfort now, despite the pain. 

“You still miss them.” Keith says, pressing his cheek to the inside of Lance’s thigh. Lance looks down at him, expecting to see that same mischievous smile that always accompanies these intimate touches, but instead, he sees only sadness.

“You don’t have to keep suffering like this, Lance. Just end it and come be with me.” 

And just like that, the illusion is broken. They’re not the same dumb kids fooling around. Keith is still a monster. The fact that Lance still cares doesn’t erase that. It just makes it… complicated. Looking at Keith’s face now, he understands how much the merman had held back before. He remembers Hunk’s words from the other day. The longer they’re galra, the worse they get, the more violent and angry. Keith doesn’t look violent now. His face is open, all pretense dropped for the first time since Lance had known him, and he just looks sad. 

“I felt you today. On the Bridge,” Keith says, his face still tucked against Lance’s leg. One of his hands rests on Lance’s ankle. “You were going to jump.”

“No. I wasn’t.”

“You were.” Keith’s hand tightens on and Lance tenses until that grip loosens a moment later. “Just for a second, you were going to do it. I felt your pain.”

“It wasn’t my pain I was thinking about. I found out what happened to you, back when you were human. You were—”

“It wasn’t my pain that made you want to jump,” Keith insists, pulling his face away. Lance’s leg feels oddly cold with his absence. “You can’t lie to me. I felt it. I felt how much you miss your family, how much you miss me. There’s nothing holding you here. You know it. You thought it. And for a second, you wanted to jump. You could have done it. What stopped you?”

“I’ve thought about it so many times, but I just... couldn’t do it. Whatever it is that pushes people to take that last step… it just wasn’t there.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever. Keith, I don’t want this to be the end.” 

“It won’t be. You’ll be with me.”

Lance traces the line of Keith’s jaw, too sharp to be human. 

“I’m with you now.”

“Barely. And for how long? We could have eternity together.”

“I’m not going to kill myself.”

“Why not? You’ve tried to do it before.” A cool finger traces a scar along the inside of Lance’s wrist. “You’ve tried to kill yourself so many times, Lance. You’ll do it again.”  
Lance shivers and pulls his arm away.

“No. I’m not there anymore, and I won’t be. Not ever again.”

“You will.” 

“No. The worst thing I can imagine happened to me and… I made it through somehow. I don’t want to die anymore and now that I know that… I know I won’t do it in the future, no matter how tempted.”

“Yes, you will,” Keith insists again. “I know you will. You’re just like me.”

“I don’t want to be like you.”

Keith flinches back, the mask of anger and indifference falling into place with a suddenness that startles Lance. 

“No—I didn’t – I don’t mean it like that. That came out wrong.”

“No, it didn’t. That’s exactly what you mean.” Keith begins to push himself off the rock and back into the ocean. Lance panics, grabbing at Keith’s arm. 

“But I didn’t mean it to sound that bad.”

Keith pulls out of Lance’s grip. “Really? You’re disgusted by me, but you thought maybe you could say that in a way that doesn’t sound bad.” 

Lance frowns. OK, sure, he’d made a poor choice in his wording, but Keith was being deliberately obtuse now. 

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It doesn’t matter. I told you before that there’s only one way for us to be together. If you don’t have the guts to do it, it really doesn’t matter what you think of me.”

“Dammit Keith, will you quit being an asshole for one goddamn second! I love you!” Keith freezes, his eyes going comically wide. “You scare the hell out of me and I know I shouldn’t, but I do. And I’m not giving up on us. I know you only see one path forward, but I don’t accept that. I don’t want to trade my sadness away, just to feel the sadness of everyone else in the world. I want something better for me and I want something better for you. So I don’t care how you feel about it. I’m going to find a way to save you.”  
It takes Keith a moment to break through his shock and say something. 

“I’m dead.”

“No, you’re not dead. You’re here. I don’t care if you’re not technically alive or whatever. Magic exists. There are ghosts and mermaids and curses and spirits and I don’t know what else, but there has to be a way to save you, and I’m going to find it. I’m going to bring you back to life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As luck would have it, two current events that got me looking into US history this month happened to relate a bit to this story. The first was Pride Month in June, which led me to some interesting articles about being gay in the 1920's (apparently, though technically illegal, the general public was actually fairly chill about it. Relatively speaking of course. Public opinion didn't go the way of modern far right evangelicals until around the 1930's). The second current event was family separations and the shift in the White House's policy on immigration, which led me to researching the history of immigration law in the US (If you want to be depressed, read up on that. I mean, you know going into it that it's probably going to be pretty racist, but it's just so blatant and the way it relates to current immigration law is just really awful.) In the late 1800's and early 1900's (i.e. the time Keith and his mom are around in this fic), US immigration law was mostly focused on immigrants from China and (later) all of Asia. Anti-immigrant sentiment was on the rise, particularly on the West Coast (never actually mentioned it before, but Altea is an island off the coast of California in this fic). 
> 
> Anyway, all this is just to say that I started thinking a lot about Keith's life and the world that he lived in. Unfortunately, Keith doesn't have his memories and Shiro and Allura aren't revealing too much. Lance may never learn exactly what Keith's life was like, so I went ahead and wrote a super tiny bio about that, which you can find on my tumblr page: [Keith's Past](https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com/post/175811981066/boy-with-a-broken-soul-extra-keiths-story)
> 
>  
> 
> Check out that little extra and I'll see you guys again for the next chapter! I can't wait to start writing. The next three chapters have been my light at the end of the tunnel for all this exposition stuff. Lots of exciting stuff coming up and a few more characters from the show who will be making appearances...
> 
> EDIT: A couple people have reported a broken link for the extra story. I think I fixed the link, but if you try it and it's not working again, here's the url: https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com/post/175811981066/


	7. These are Hard Times for Dreamers and the Love Lost Believers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is determined to save Keith, but there are forces in this world that are just as determined to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah! A timely update! It's been a while since we've had one of those. (mostly because the next three chapters are the most exciting, so I kept skipping around before to write scenes for these) Anyway, enjoy!

“Coran, Matt, I need your help.” Lance slams his bag on the table. “How do you break a curse?”

Coran and Matt both look at Lance blankly for a moment before exchanging confused glances. 

“Good morning to you too,” Matt says. “Do you mind filling us in on what this new mission is about? I thought you asked us to come here to find out more information about Keith?”

“This is about Keith. The spirits told me Keith was cursed. It’s got something to do with the galra infecting humans. I don’t really know, but whatever it is, it’s not his fault, so we need to break the curse.”

“Well,” Coran says slowly, setting down his cup of coffee and heading toward a one of the shelves, “I have no practical experience with this, but there are many legends and theories on curse breaking. The most popular story, of course, being a kiss from your true love.” He winks over his shoulder at Lance. 

“Believe me. I’ve tried that. Doesn’t work. Next?”

Coran nearly drops his book, fumbling for a minute before catching it inches from the ground. Meanwhile, Matt is very audibly choking on his coffee. 

“I beg your pardon?” Coran asks, nearly slamming the book on the table.

“You kissed Keith?” Matt chokes out between coughs, sounding just as surprised as Coran. “After finding out what he is?”

“No, it was before that.” Lance can feel the blush creeping onto his face, but he tries to ignore it. It would help if Coran and Matt would stop staring at him like he’d just grown an extra head. “I mean, obviously I knew about the mermaid thing, but all the other stuff came up later. And I’m not saying I’m his one true love or anything, but it’s not like we’ve got any other contenders and I kissed him and nothing happened. Let’s move on.” 

Matt and Coran exchange a look. That’s really starting to get on Lance’s nerves. Lately it feels like all of his time spent with these two is filled with these secret eye-contact conversations. He considers just telling them to come out and say what they’re thinking, except he’s fairly sure that he doesn’t really want to hear it. Instead, Lance takes the book Coran had brought over earlier and begins flipping through pages. He’s putting more effort into ignoring the continued silent conversation Matt and Coran seem to be having than he is reading. Finally, the two men sigh, almost in unison. Matt goes to re-fill his coffee while Coran heads to the book shelves. Lance tries not to smile. They may think he’s a little crazy for this obsession, but at least they’re still supporting him. It feels a bit like having his family back. He feels guilty for thinking that, for finding another family so soon after his had been taken, so he quickly pushes those thoughts aside. He flips back to the beginning of the book and starts reading again, this time in earnest. 

Coran begins their research with the usual ritual of piling stacks of books on the table. The stacks are a lot smaller than their former research project. Lance doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not. Coran goes downstairs briefly to retrieve a pile of new-age books, explaining that there’s actually not a lot of information on Altean curses. Matt goes with him and Lance tries very hard to ignore the whispers that float up the stairs. They’re talking too quietly for Lance to make out the words, but it’s clear that they’re arguing. When they finally come back upstairs, however, both men dive into their work with the same dedication they’d shown to their earlier research. Every now and then, Matt or Coran make a suggestion. 

“There are a lot of stories in here that say killing the person who cursed or hexed you will break the curse. I mean, maybe we don’t want to go all the way to murder, but you could try to incapacitate them,” Matt suggests. “Do you know if the person who cursed him is still alive?” 

“The ocean cursed him.”

“The ocean did what now?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s confusing. Let’s just assume that’s not an option and move on.”

“I’m guessing if the ocean cursed this person, rituals that involve bathing in the ocean are probably not going to be effective?” Coran asks, looking up from his own book. 

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that has the exact opposite effect in this situation.”

Coran nods and tosses the book he had been reading into the reject pile. He reaches for a book in the middle of the pile next. The stack teeters ominously for a moment, but doesn’t fall.

“Most curse breaking rituals involve water and/or salt,” he says, opening the new book. “If we’re ruling those out, I think we’re going to need to look at fire. Oh! You could burn a baby!”

“What!” Lance and Matt shout in unison. 

“Wait, no, sorry, it continues on the next page. Burn a baby LEAF at sunrise and at sunset. Let the smoke waft over you and scatter the ashes to the wind.”

“Or you could use crystals.” Matt interjects, still eyeing Coran warily. “Selenite, probably would be best…”

Matt starts muttering about different types of crystals and where they might find them. It seems like he’s actually done a fair amount of research on crystals as part of his paranormal studies. His mumbling trails off after a few minutes and Lance goes back to reading. 

“This one looks promising,” Coran says, spinning the book for Lance to read. It’s completely pointless since the entire page is nothing but Altean symbols. “Tie the soul to its anchor at midnight in the presence of that soul’s element to burn away outside influence.”

“You want me to tie Keith to an anchor and drop him in the middle of the ocean at midnight?”

“Not a literal anchor. This ritual is in ancient Altean. They didn’t even have literal anchors,” Coran chuckles to himself. “That’s just an approximate translation. An anchor would be something from Keith’s life that’s important to him and ties him to his humanity. You create a connection, perhaps through sense memory, thus creating an anchor to Keith’s humanity. Also, it wouldn’t be midnight. The translation is more accurately the middle of the night. Halfway between sunrise and sunset, which would be closer to 1 a.m. for this specific date and geographical location.”

“Doesn’t really matter what time of the night you’d need to perform the ritual. Keith doesn’t remember anything from his life except for dying and I’m pretty sure that’s not a great link to his humanity anyway.”

“You could create a talisman that would absorb the curse,” Matt suggests. 

“Yes, that could work.” Coran nods to himself. “Of course, the effects of the curse would still be partially there. It wouldn’t break it completely. Only help mitigate the effects, and then only so long as the talisman was with the cursed individual. Could be an effective way to wait out the curse until it weakens on its own.”

“He’s been cursed for a hundred years,” Lance points out. “I don’t think this curse is going to weaken on its own any time soon. If anything, the effects just get stronger over time.” 

“Hmmm, perhaps not then. I think our best bet is to focus on rituals, the problem is there are so many. I suppose we’ll have to try them all.” Coran grins at Lance. The smile is almost completely hidden underneath his mustache, but his eyes practically sparkle with excitement. “When can the boy come in? We should start at once!”

 

*****

 

As it turns out, the answer to that question is never. 

“Come on, Keith. You agreed to let me help you.”

“Exactly. I agreed to you. I didn’t agree to let a bunch of strangers poke and prod me.”

“They’re not like that,” Lance says, starting to get exasperated. “They’re good people and they just want to help.”

“No. Just you.”

“But—”

“Just you or I’m out completely.”

Lance sighs. 

“Fine.”

When he reports back, Coran and Matt both look disappointed. Nevertheless, Coran begins instructing Lance on the various rituals they’ve found while Matt gets to work on a list of ingredients and materials they’ll need. 

Over the next few weeks, the four men fall into a new rhythm. Every morning, Lance swings by Coran’s to see what new ritual they’ve got for him. Coran explains the process, while Matt packs up the materials. Then Lance heads down to the beach to meet up with Keith. The spirits keep their distance. Lance hasn’t seen any of them since his confrontation with Shiro, but he doesn’t fool himself into thinking they’re gone. More and more, he feels like he’s being watched. He never does catch a glimpse of the ghosts, but he feels their eyes on him all the time. 

There’s a long list of rituals in Coran’s books and Lance tries every one of them. He burns herbs and fans the smoke over Keith until he’s coughing so hard he has to retreat back to the water. He recites every prayer that Matt and Coran can find. He burns candles and herbs at dawn, at dusk, at noon, at midnight, under a full moon, new moon, and everything in between. He makes talismans and amulets. One day, he even drags Keith up the mountainside to wash in fresh water. It takes three days of prodding to convince Keith and when they finally do get to the stream, Keith can’t stop looking over his shoulder, like someone’s going to catch them and yell at them for trespassing or something. Lance just rolls his eyes and nudges him towards the stream. 

Keith sticks a toe into the water and pulls it back out almost immediately. 

“I’m not getting in there. It’s freezing.”

“Come on, don’t be such a baby. It just has to be for a minute. It’s not even that bad. We used to come up here all the time in high school on dares. Now strip.” Keith smirks. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just used to you telling me to put clothes on, not the other way around.”

“Shut up.”

Keith strips down until he’s completely naked. Lance is careful to keep his eyes up the whole time. Once he’s naked though, Keith doesn’t move. He’s eyeing the stream like it’s going to turn into a monster and attack him. Finally, Lance sighs and pulls off his shirt. 

“Fine. If you’re going to be this much of a baby about it, I’ll do it with you.”

Lance strips down to his underwear. He starts to wade into the water, but Keith catches his arm to stop him. 

“Not so fast. I thought you were going to do exactly what I did.”

“I am.”

“Then lose the shorts.”

Lance doesn’t think his face has ever turned red so fast in his entire life. He sputters for a moment, trying to think of something to say, but Keith is right. Fair is fair. 

“Fine. But you better not look.”

Keith rolls his eyes, but he turns away obediently. As quickly as he can, Lance pulls off his underwear and wades into the stream. The water is colder than he remembers it being. It barely comes as high as Lance’s waist, but he’s already shivering. There’s a light splash behind him and he turns to see Keith in the water now too. He isn’t shivering the way Lance is, but his entire body is stiff as he moves to join Lance in the center of the stream. 

“OK,” Lance says, “The book says you have to be completely submerged in fresh, running water, so on three, we duck under completely, alright?”  
Keith nods. 

“OK. One… two… three!”

Lance takes a deep breath and plunges himself into the water. He holds his breath, waiting as long as he can stand before breaking the surface again. Keith is still standing there, completely dry above the waist. 

“Seriously?” Lance shouts. 

“I really don’t like cold,” Keith says. At least he looks like he feels guilty, even if he doesn’t exactly apologize. 

“Fine. But I did it once. I’m not doing it again, and we’re not getting out of this stream until you go all the way into the water, even if I have to shove you under myself.”

Keith’s eyes narrow. 

“You wouldn’t.”

Lance takes a menacing step forward. Or at least, it would be menacing if Lance hadn’t stepped on a mossy rock. His foot slips out from underneath him and Lance is sent careening towards the water’s surface again. He reaches out for balance, managing to catch Keith’s arm. For a second, it looks like Keith will be able to hold him. Then Keith moves. His feet go out from under him and they both tumble back into the water. Lance keeps a grip on Keith as the current washes them downstream. By the time they’re both able to get their footing again, they’re a good hundred meters downstream from where they left their clothes. They crawl out of the stream, both trying to catch their breath. Keith shoots Lance a glare. Lance smiles back, sheepishly. 

“I did warn you.” 

Keith shakes his head, but he also laughs. Clearly, he’s not that mad. He climbs to his feet and offers a hand to help Lance up as well. They walk back upstream to their clothing in silence, completely nude. Lance is pretty sure Keith sneaks a few looks at him. He’d be upset about it if he wasn’t sneaking the occasional look at Keith as well. 

Once they get dressed and back in the car, Lance cranks the heat as high as it will go. Keith crowds forward towards the vent, sighing as the hot air washes over him. 

“I can’t believe you used to do this for fun when you were younger.”

Lance laughs as he puts the car in gear and steers it onto the road. 

“Come on, admit it. This was a little fun today.”

Keith turns away, but not before Lance catches the smile on his face. 

“Maybe a little,” Keith mutters. 

The bright mood doesn’t last long, though. They return to the ocean that evening to test out the cure. One step into the salty water and black scales begin to crawl up Keith’s legs. Lance is starting to lose hope. So far, Keith has gone along with these plans with a minimal amount of complaining. Lance wonders if it’s because he already knows they’re useless, but tries not to think about that. One of these rituals has to work. It has to. They just haven’t found the right one yet. 

A few days later, he’s scrubbing Keith’s back with a mixture of salt, oil, and uncrossing herbs and trying to keep his thoughts positive. It’s a ritual that Coran has assured him will take a full week of repeated application to take effect. Matt had warned him that intention was everything with these rituals. If you didn’t control your emotions and thoughts, there was no hope of breaking the curse. 

“Why do you care so much?”

Lance pauses. Keith’s back is hunched, his head hung low enough that Lance can’t see the expression on his face. 

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone.” He scoops up another heap of the herb mixture and begins rubbing it into Keith’s skin. “You keep going. You fight for them. No matter what.”

Keith doesn’t say anything in response to that. 

“You don’t…” Lance hesitates. “You’ve never felt that way about anyone?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“You love me?”

“Of course. I already told you that.”

“Even though I can’t love you back?”

Lance feels a sharp pain in his chest. It’s not like this is new information. Shiro had told him. Allura had told him. Hunk and Pidge had given him that pitying look when he’d asked them about it, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear Keith say it now as well. Still, a small part of him had hoped. 

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of how love works,” Lance says, going back to rubbing Keith’s back. “It doesn’t really matter what the other person feels. It doesn’t even matter if they’re there anymore. You still love them. Forever.”

“That sucks.”

Lance laughs. 

“Yeah, it does sometimes. Here, turn around so I can get your front.”

Keith twists around so he’s sitting cross legged in front of Lance and Lance starts to scoop the herb mixture onto Keith’s chest. Keith watches him closely, studying his face the whole time. Lance tries not to feel self-conscious about it. 

“Love is why you wanted to kill yourself that first day. That’s how it is with a lot of people. They love someone who can’t love them back and it hurts so bad that they want it all to end.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s probably true.”

“Then why haven’t you done it yet? You’ve loved so many people who you’ve lost, who can never love you again. And people who can never love you at all. But you’re still trying to live. Why?”

These kinds of questions from Keith aren’t anything new. What is new is his tone. He doesn’t sound like he’s trying to convince Lance to kill himself. Instead, he sounds genuinely curious. Lance shrugs. 

“I don’t know. Hope, I guess.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah. When everything else is gone, it’s the only thing we humans have left. You just have to hope that the thing that feels impossible really isn’t.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a thing that you feel. I don’t really know how to describe it.”

Keith reaches out, resting a hand on the center of Lance’s chest. 

“I don’t feel that in you. I can feel a lot of your emotions, but I don’t feel anything like hope.”

“Well, you said you could only feel strong emotions, right? Hope isn’t very strong. It’s just this tiny little thing most of the time. It barely even registers when you do feel it. It’s persistent, though. It just keeps pushing you to hold on and wait for things to start getting better.”

“And if they never do?”

Lance thinks about Keith’s life, about how things went from bad to worse, about how they stayed bad for a really long time. He thinks about his own time in the hospital, how grief blotted out all feelings, including hope. 

“I don’t know. I know that sometimes life doesn’t get better for people. Sometimes everything is painful and hard and sad until you die. But I also know that just because you feel like that’s going to be true doesn’t mean it will be. That’s what sucks. You don’t get to know if life will get better or worse unless you’ve already made it through the other side and decided to keep living.” Lance places his clean hand over Keith’s. “I’m glad I didn’t kill myself, though. I’m glad I stuck around and got to meet you.”

“Even if you end up wasting all this time trying to save someone who can’t be saved?”

“Yeah. Even then.” 

Keith’s face is carefully blank, but Lance can read the confusion in his eyes. Despite Lance’s explanations, Keith clearly doesn’t understand why someone would go to this much trouble for another person, how you could care enough to put them before yourself. Still, Keith saved Lance when it made no sense to do that, when it would have been easier and more convenient, to just kill him. That tiny, persistent voice gives Lance another push. There’s still hope. 

“Come on,” he says, dropping Keith’s hand. “Let’s get your legs and then you can wash this gunk off.”

 

*****

 

Keith studies the crystal Lance left with him. Their meditation session hadn’t gone well, but Lance insisted that Keith keep trying on his own. 

“I’m just saying, maybe I’m distracting you.”

“Maybe it just doesn’t work, just like the rest.”

“Stop being so pessimistic. You know what, it’s not a request anymore. It’s an order. Meditate on your own. Who knows. It may not turn you human, but at least it might kick that stupid pessimistic attitude in the butt.”

“I’m trying, Lance.”

“Good. Now try harder. Take the crystal and meditate.”

The crystal isn’t very large. It fits completely in the palm of Keith’s hand. He rolls the gem in his fingers for a moment, then holds it up to the light. Tiny rainbows of color sparkle in the gem’s depths. Keith smiles. It’s beautiful. Something stirs in the back of his mind. There’s something important there, something he has forgotten. He focuses on that feeling, controlling his breathing like Lance had taught him. It’s no use. No matter how hard he focuses, he can’t seem to get past the barrier in his mind. It’s like a gate, welded shut. He knows there’s something behind it, but he has no way to find out what. There are no gaps, no locks to open. It’s just closed off. Unreachable. 

Keith clenches his fist around the crystal, feeling the sharp edges dig into his palm. It’s not painful, though Keith thinks for a second that it should be. It would have been if he was human. There’s a thin line of red on his palm where the crystal cut into his skin. He’s not bleeding, though he can see the blood still pumping beneath the surface. A hundred years and Keith hasn’t thought much about what he is. He exists and that’s all that ever mattered. Now, as he watches his skin knit itself together, far faster than it would if he were human, he finds himself wondering. 

Lost in his thoughts, Keith doesn’t even notice the creature approaching until its head breaks the surface. Keith is so surprised, he nearly drops the crystal. 

“Haxus! What are you doing here,” he growls. The creature studies him with a cold, calculating stare. Keith can feel the current tug at him as Haxus’s long, serpentine tail twists beneath the waves. Keith’s mind is racing. Haxus almost never swims this close to shore. When he feeds, he gorges. He’s always preferred to stay further out to sea so he can take down boats filled with tasty, terrified, meals. Keith tenses as Haxus begins to circle him. Whatever has drawn this Galra in to the shallows can’t possibly be good. 

“A little fishy told me you’ve been seen with a human.”

“I’ve been seen with lots of humans,” Keith bristles. “In case you haven’t noticed, I feed on them all the time.”

Haxus smiles, but his eyes remain as cold as ever. 

“I’ve heard you’ve been seen with one human. Multiple times.”

“Some of us enjoy the hunt. It’s none of your business how I lure my prey.” 

“If that really is what you’re doing.”

Keith tries not to react. 

“What other reason would I have to spend time with a human?” 

“What other reason indeed…” Haxus stops circling, leveling an icy stare on Keith. “I wonder. He does look like quite the… tasty morsel.” 

Keith growls. 

“He’s mine. I’ve claimed him. If you or anyone touch him, I’ll –“ 

“You’ll do what? You may have your fancy tricks, but don’t fool yourself into thinking you can challenge us.” 

“I have a claim,” Keith insists. 

“And we’ll honor it. As long as it is clear you plan to claim him.” 

Haxus sinks back into the water. Keith ducks under the waves quickly, making sure Haxus is headed back out to sea. He watches until the purple scales disappear into the distance before surfacing again. He looks down at the crystal, still clutched in his palm. He didn’t realize how tightly he’d been gripping it. Several new cuts have opened on his palm, already beginning to close back up. Keith glances back out to sea. He’s not sure how close Lance is to breaking the curse. He has his doubts that the curse can be broken at all. And yet, if Haxus is growing suspicious, one thing is clear. They’re running out of time. 

 

*****

 

Matt tosses his bag into the corner with a heavy sigh. Lance follows him into the garage, closing the door behind him. They’d spent all morning combing the forest near Matt’s house for a flower needed for one of the rituals Coran found. Unfortunately, they’d been completely unsuccessful. After hours of searching, they’d finally agreed to come back tomorrow morning to search again. For now, Matt is going to put together a list of ingredients for a different ritual. Lance can go out and get them this afternoon, maybe swing by the beach when he’s done to check on Keith. 

“I’ll just be a few minutes. I have to check on some experiments real quick,” Matt says, sliding into a chair in front of his laptop. 

“You’ve been running experiments here still? On top of everything at Coran’s?”

“Well, I tried to convince him to let me do this at the shop, you know, multi-task, but he’s convinced that I’m going to blow up all his books or something. Still, the research we’ve been doing has given me a lot of new ideas.”

Matt trails off as he pulls up a file that’s clearly been running all day. The screen fills with a bunch of numbers that Lance doesn’t even pretend to understand. Instead, he begins to wander. It’s been a while since he’s been in Matt’s garage. He can’t remember exactly what experiments Matt was doing the first time around, but it looks like there are at least a few new ones in the mix. Lance wanders between the tables, looking at the experiments with pretty much zero idea of what any of them are. He finally makes his way over to a pair of comfortable looking chairs in the corner. There’s an empty and stained coffee pot on a table, along with a few family photos. Lance picks up one of them. 

A young Matt smiles happily from behind the glass. He can’t be more than sixteen or seventeen in the picture. He has one arm thrown over his sister’s shoulder. Pidge looks a lot different in this photo. She’s younger, her hair is longer, and she’s not sporting her usual glasses. She also looks a lot happier than Lance has ever seen her. An older man stands behind them in the picture, one hand on Matt’s shoulder, the other on Pidge’s. He looks just as happy as the other two. Lance looks at the chairs again, both old and worn. He remembers some of those early articles of Matt’s he found, co-authored by someone named Samuel Holt. 

“Matt, does your dad help with your research anymore?”

Matt doesn’t respond and, at first, Lance thinks maybe he didn’t hear him. When Lance looks over at him, however, Matt’s shoulders are stiff. He’s still staring at the screen, but he’s no longer typing. 

“Dad stopped coming down here a long time ago,” he finally says. 

“So why didn’t you?” 

“Because I won’t give up on my sister. No matter what.” 

There’s a venom there that Lance didn’t expect. Clearly something happened between Matt and his father, but Lance doesn’t have the courage to ask. Instead, he says the next stupidest thing. 

“It’s not giving up on her, Matt. She’s dead. You can’t save her from that.” 

Matt spins in his chair, a glare already fixed on his face. 

“I know that. I just…” He stops himself, forcing calm into his voice. “Look, I’m not stupid. I know I can’t change what happened, but she’s here. I know she’s still here. I feel it. And if she’s still here, then I can talk to her.” 

Lance knows he should stop, that he should just accept that answer, but something pushes him to go on. 

“But what good is that going to do? I mean, even if you did manage to contact her somehow, she’s not alive. What good is talking to her going to do?”

“You lost your entire family, Lance. I thought you of all people would understand. If you could talk to them again, even just once, tell them that you love them, that you miss them, see their faces again, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” Lance lies. 

Matt doesn’t look convinced. 

“Well, I’m not stopping. So you can tell Katie that if she wants me to move on, she can come out and talk to me herself instead of sending you.”

“She didn’t tell me to stop, she – ” Lance stops himself, but it’s too late. 

“So, you have seen her.”

Matt’s words hang in the air. He’s angry. Lance knows he is, but when he speaks again, his words are measured. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ask?” Lance deflects, not meeting Matt’s eyes. 

“I was worried you’d say she wasn’t one of the ghosts you saw.” Matt pauses. “And… I think… worried you’d say she was.”

Lance’s eyes dart up to Matt’s, confused. This time, Matt’s the one who looks away first. 

“I’ve been trying to find her for six years, rehearsing in my head what I’d say to her if I ever did, and when you told me you saw ghosts, I thought maybe this was my chance, after all this time, and suddenly everything that had been hypothetical before just… wasn’t. I really don’t know what I’d say to her.”

“Matt, why are you trying so hard to find her? I know you care about her and everything, but… there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Yeah, well,” Matt finally looks at Lance again. “I’m not the only one keeping secrets, am I?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Why didn’t you? Was it because you thought I might focus more on that instead of helping you?”

“No. I just… I didn’t know how to bring it up and then it was too late. I knew you’d be angry when you found out I was keeping it from you and I just thought that after all of this mess was over, it would be easier to do it then.”

“In other words, you thought it would get in the way of me helping you.”

Lance sighs. 

“Yeah. I guess.”

Matt looks more frustrated than angry now. 

“I’m not going to just abandon you. You know that, right Lance? If I find Katie or if you figure out how to cure Keith, that doesn’t mean our friendship is over. I’ve got your back no matter what, OK? I’m just asking you to trust me a little.”

Lance smiles 

“Yeah. OK.”

The silence stretches on for just long enough to start feeling awkward. Matt clears his throat and begins busing himself with one of his inventions. 

“So… how is Katie?”

“OK, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while. She misses you, but she has friends and they seem pretty close. At least, she seems close to one of them. She’s been trying to figure out how to contact you too. She accidentally started a fire at Coran’s shop once, trying to get him to see her.”

Matt laughs. 

“That sounds just like her.”

“Matt, I don’t know if… I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see her. I don’t think it works like that. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but…”

“It’s fine. Will you do something for me though?”

“Sure.”

“Next time you see her, will you tell her… Tell her that that I miss her and that I love her and that…” Matt hesitates. “Tell her that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“She’ll know.”

 

*****

 

It took longer than expected for Matt to gather the list of ingredients. By the time Lance is on his way, it’s almost evening. Most of the shops he needs to go to will be closed by the time he gets back to town. Lance glances at the wall of trees just beyond Matt’s house. He still has a few hours of daylight left. It’s a long shot, but maybe he can find the flower on his own. Lance glances back at the garage, considering grabbing Matt first. He decides against it. 

Despite Matt’s assurance that he’ll always have Lance’s back, things had been awkward after their conversation. Lance knows that Matt wants to forgive him, but it’s also clear that forgiveness might take some time. Lance grabs his bag and heads back into the woods on his own. 

It only takes an hour for Lance to realize he is completely lost. He keeps up the pretense of searching for the flower for a few more minutes before abandoning it completely. It’s starting to get dark. He needs to find his way back to the road. He pulls out his phone to check his GPS, but there’s no service. He pulls up the compass app, but that’s not terribly useful either, since he has no idea what direction he was going when he entered the forest. He tries to orient himself instead by the mountain and starts walking. An hour later, Lance begins to panic. Nothing looks familiar. He doesn’t know if he’s headed towards Matt’s house or deeper into the woods. To make matters worse, it’s almost completely dark now. The moon is almost full, thankfully, and some of its light makes its way through the forest canopy to light Lance’s way. The pale glow does nothing for the shadows all around him, however. 

There’s a rustle of leaves to his left and Lance’s heart begins to hammer. He feels like he’s being followed. He knows it’s probably just his own mind playing tricks on him, but he pulls out his camera and turns on its flashlight anyway. He shines it into the darkness. There’s nothing there. Lance starts walking again, this time a little faster. A twig snaps to his right. He turns to shine his camera onto the trees there, knowing it’s probably nothing. Instead, yellow eyes flash in the light, and something huge, furry, and purple lunges. 

Instinct takes over. Lance swings his bag, silently thanking the stars that he’d decided to bring those three very heavy books from Coran’s. The bag hits the creature on the side of his head, knocking it off balance and off course. Lance feels the swipe of claws across his stomach, the sharp sting as they scrape across flesh, the strong tug as they slice clean through the fabric of his shirt. Lance stumbles back. His feet catch on something and he falls. His phone goes flying from his hand. The flashlight is still on, illuminating just enough of the clearing for Lance to finally get a good look at the thing that attacked him. It’s big. As big as a human. No, Lance realizes. It’s bigger. It’s covered in thick purple hair that comes to a point over large, wolf-like ears. The creature has recovered from Lance’s blow. It stands now, towering over Lance. Its eyes glow yellow and it bares its sharp teeth. Those teeth look familiar somehow. Lance doesn’t have time to think about that though, because the creature is lunging again. 

Lance throws his arms up in front of his face. It’s not going to stop the creature. He’s going to die right here. He’s going to—

A roar interrupts Lance’s panic. The creature has stopped only a foot away, and he’s no longer looking at Lance. Instead, he’s clawing at something that’s quickly wrapping its way around his foot. A vine, Lance realizes. 

“Stop staring and move your ass!” Lance spins around to see Pidge, kneeling on the ground, her hands disappearing into the earth. She’s breathing hard, her attention focused solidly on the creature. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold him. Move!” 

Lance doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet, quickly scooping up his bag and phone. Then he runs. He has no idea what direction he’s going. He just knows he has to get away from that thing before it gets free. 

“Lance, this way!” 

He spins to his left. Hunk is standing there, waving him over. Lance hesitates, but only for a moment. A loud crash sounds from the direction he’d come from and Pidge appears next to him. 

“I couldn’t hold him any longer. Go!”

Lance begins to run again. His breath is coming quickly now. He’d been the star of the track team in high school, but all these months without training have taken their toll. He can hear the creature following them. The rustle of leaves, the snapping of twigs, the pounding footsteps; it’s deafening in the otherwise silent woods. It feels like the creature is right behind him. Lance expects to feel the rake of claws across his back any second. Hunk is suddenly gone from his side and the entire earth shakes, sending Lance crashing to the ground on all fours. There’s a rumbling sound, a shout of surprise behind him, and then the world is still again. Disoriented, Lance looks over his shoulder. There’s a crack in the earth, almost ten feet wide. Hunk is kneeling at the edge of it, panting heavily. 

“Keep going,” Hunk gasps between breaths. “He’s not dead. Keep going.”

Lance runs. He doesn’t stop running until he reaches the edge of the woods, stumbling out onto the Holts’ lawn, clutching at the stitch in his side. He stumbles to his car, climbing into the driver’s seat and locking the doors as soon as they’re closed. He glances in his rear-view mirror and almost screams when he sees two pairs of eyes looking back at him. 

“Are you OK?” Hunk asks, leaning forward to get a better look at him. 

No. He’s not OK. He’s definitely not OK. He nods anyway. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“A Galra,” Pidge says. “You didn’t think Keith was the only one on the island, did you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand the plot thickens! 
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you guys in the comments and if you want to follow me on tumblr, I do post updates there, as well as occasional extras (i.e. backstories, fluffy scenes, and other stuff that didn't make it into the actual fic) at https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> If you don't have a tumblr, don't worry. I always post links to any extra content here as well. If you haven't already read the extra about Keith's past, that's in the end notes in chapter 6. 
> 
> I'm hoping to have chapter 8 done by the end of the month, but we all know about best laid plans...


	8. Broken Dreams and Silent Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith have a decision to make, before someone else makes it for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from vacation and I've got another chapter ready to go! Enjoy!

“Lance, you have to get out of here. Lance? Lance! Are you listening to me? You have to go!”

“I just need a minute,” Lance says, his head pressed to his steering wheel. His arms are shaking from the adrenaline and he can’t seem to catch his breath. He knows he needs to move. He needs to get out of here before that thing comes out of the forest. 

“Pidge, I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to drive like this,” Hunk whispers.

“He doesn’t have a choice,” she shoots back. “Lance, you need to calm down. You need to start this car, and you need to get out of here.” 

There’s a sharp knock on the driver-side window. Lance’s head shoots up and Hunk and Pidge both yelp in surprise. 

“Lance? I thought you left hours ago. What are you still doing here?” Matt’s face is pressed against the window, peering inside. No, no, no. Matt can’t be outside, not with that thing. Lance fumbles with the lock, pushing open the door, even before Matt’s all the way clear. He grabs Matt’s arm and tugs. 

“Get in! Quick!”

“What? Lance, what are you—”

“Get in!” Lance and Pidge yell in unison. Matt stops resisting, and Lance pulls him into the driver’s seat, scooting across the console onto the passenger side to make room. He reaches across Matt and slams the door shut, locking it again. 

“Have him take you to Coran’s,” Pidge says. “Allura put up wards a long time ago. No Galra can enter that building. You’ll be safe there.”

“Wait,” Lance says, looking between Pidge and Hunk. “You’re not coming with us?”

“We have to tell Allura what happened,” Hunk explains, looking apologetic. “Don’t worry. It’s not going to follow you out of the forest.”

“Then why do we have to go to Coran’s?”

“Just an extra precaution,” Pidge says. It’s clear she’s hiding something. “Look, just do what we tell you and you’ll—”

“Katie?”

Pidge breaks off in shock. She turns to look at her brother. He’s looking at an empty space several inches to her left. 

“It’s you, isn’t it? You’re here?”

Pidge swallows thickly before dragging her gaze back to Lance. 

“Just get to Coran’s. We’ll find you when we know what’s going on.”

She disappears, Hunk following a second later. 

“She’s gone,” Lance says softly. Matt turns to face him. 

“But she was here, right? It was really her?”

Lance nods. 

“I knew it. I felt her. It wasn’t just in my head. I knew she was here. I…” Matt trails off, his eyes dropping lower. “Lance, what happened to your shirt?”

Right. Shit. Lance glances out the window. The woods look as quiet as ever. Maybe Hunk was right and the creature wouldn’t follow them beyond the trees. Even so, Lance wasn’t sure he wanted to wait and find out. 

“I’ll tell you on the way,” Lance says, fastening his seatbelt. It takes a few tries. His hands are still shaking. “We need to get to Coran’s. Now.”

Matt nods. He starts the engine and pulls out onto the road. Lance breathes a sigh of relief as they leave the forest behind. He glances at his side-mirror. For a second, he thinks he sees something, but when he glances over his shoulder, there’s nothing. It’s just his nerves, he thinks. There’s no way he could have seen those glowing eyes from this distance. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. And besides, there had been only one creature in the forest with him. There was no way he’d really seen two pairs of eyes in the mirror. It was just his imagination. Still, he can’t help watching the mirror for the rest of the ride. 

 

*****

 

By the time Matt has managed to bandage up his wounds, Lance has told the story a total of three times: Once in the car to Matt, once to a disheveled and freshly woken Coran after he finally opened his door to them, and once more to a more awake Coran as Matt cleaned and bandaged the cuts on Lance’s stomach. The scrapes weren’t bad. They had mostly stopped bleeding by the time they had reached Coran’s and one was already starting to scab. Matt still insists they get a good cleaning to avoid infection. 

“So, do you think I’ll turn into a werewolf now?” Lance asks, his laugh only slightly forced. 

“I doubt it,” Coran says, setting down his coffee. He hasn’t spoken since Lance finished the third re-telling of his story. “From what we’ve learned from Keith and your spirit friends, it seems like the Galra affliction is spread through magic, not infection. Still, we really have no way of knowing. I think it may be best to seek advice from the one creature we know has been through that transformation.”

“I’m not telling Keith about this.”

“Lance, Coran has a point. Keith might be able to help.”

“No. He’ll just worry. I’m fine. And now I know not to wander around the woods at night, so OK. Lesson learned. Besides, I apparently have two magical warrior ghosts looking out for me now.” Lance smirks. “Your sister is a badass by the way.”

Matt still looks worried, but he cracks a smile anyway. 

“That was true even before she became a magical warrior ghost.”

 

*****

 

Allura paces along the edge of the caldera. Shiro is standing close, looking far calmer than Allura feels. It has been almost ten minutes since she’d received word of the attack from Shiro. She knows that everyone made it out of the forest alright. She knows that Hunk and Pidge are following Lance and Matt to Coran’s. She knows that they are out of the reach of Sendak. Still, she worries. 

There’s a sudden shift in the air and a moment later, Hunk and Pidge appear at her side. 

“Is he safe?” She asks. 

“For now.” Pidge shares a brief, worried glance with Hunk. “Allura, do they know that he’s—”

“No. Thankfully, no. The intel Shiro has gathered suggests that they are targeting Lance because he is attempting to interfere with Keith.”

“But… that means… that means it could work, doesn’t it?” Hunk crowds closer. “If they’re worried, maybe they know that something Lance is doing might – ”

“We can’t afford to consider that. Lance is in danger. He is the one we have to worry about now.”

“Maybe we should convince him to leave the island,” Pidge suggests, though she doesn’t sound as if she likes that idea much. 

“No, we can’t risk it. He needs to be here, where we can protect him if needed. The Galra don’t know about my involvement. Hunk, Pidge, you have a reputation for wanting to protect humans. You will protect Lance to avoid arousing suspicions.”

“We can’t protect him forever.”

“We won’t have to. If Lance ends his dalliance with Keith, they’ll lose interest in him eventually.”

“Lance will never agree to that,” Shiro says. 

Allura stops pacing. 

“Then we won’t leave it up to Lance.” Allura turns to Shiro. He’s frowning at her. 

“I don’t want to cause him more pain,” he says softly. 

“I understand. I feel the same way, but this is too important.” 

Shiro nods. 

“I should be the one to—”

“No. It’s my responsibility. Besides, we need you keeping an eye on the Galra.”

Shiro nods again before quietly fading away into nothing. 

“Hunk, Pidge, please check to make sure Lance’s house is safe for his return.”

The two paladins fade away without a word of protest. Allura turns to face Altea Bridge and takes a deep breath, stealing herself for a confrontation that is long overdue. 

 

*****

 

Keith pokes his head out of the water, scanning the beach for any sign of Lance. They were supposed to meet here tonight. Lance hasn’t shown up yet. Keith tries to reassure himself that it’s probably nothing. This isn’t the first time Lance has missed one of their meetings. From the beginning, there were times when Lance would stay away for a day or two, before wandering back to their beach, shyly apologizing for his absence. Keith understood. He didn’t ask questions. He felt the hollowness in Lance’s chest on those days. But lately, Lance had been meticulous, driven. Keith wouldn’t blame him for having a relapse, of course. He feels horrible for hoping that’s what was going on with him. At least it’s better than the alternative. 

He ducks beneath the waves again, swimming further from the shore to scan the water around him. He closes his eyes, listening closely. He can hear the pops and clicks of the fish that live in the rocky shallows, but he ignores them, searching for something else. Haxus has always been able to move through the water in silence, but the creatures he shared that water with were never quiet. He scared them and they made their distress know when he was near. Tonight, Keith only hears the normal sounds of the bay. He hopes that’s a good sign. 

Satisfied that he’s the only Galra near the island tonight, Keith returns to his and Lance’s usual meeting spot. When he breaches the surface, he sees someone waiting for him, dark skin illuminated by the moon and stars. His heart lifts until he realizes who it is. 

“You need to leave Lance alone.” 

“Allura, still sticking your nose in other people’s business I see.”

Keith hasn’t seen Allura in decades. Ever since Lance mentioned he’d seen her, Keith has been expecting a visit. That doesn’t make him any less annoyed. 

“Keith, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but this is important. You need to stop these meetings with Lance.”

“I’m not going to hurt him.”

“You will. Eventually, whether you mean to or not, you will. You’re Galra now and you can’t change what you are.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Keith says, shaking his head. He flicks his tail, drifting away from the rocks. He’s done with this conversation. 

“It doesn’t matter what you believe, Keith. It doesn’t matter what you try to do. He almost died tonight because of you.”

Keith stops. He turns back to Allura, a wary glare on his face. 

“I was nowhere near him tonight.”

“No, he was on his own, searching the woods for a plant to try to turn you human again, and he was attacked.”

“What?” With one flick of his tail, Keith is back at the rocky outcrop. He hauls himself out of the water, scales falling off him like water droplets as his tail transforms into legs. “Where is he?”

“He’s safe. For now. Keith, it was a Galra. They know Lance is trying to help you and they will not allow even the slimmest possibility of one of their own leaving the fold.”

“I have to go to him.”

Keith is already heading towards the beach, unsure of where he’s going, but certain that he needs to find Lance. Allura holds up a hand and a gust of wind hits Keith with enough force to nearly knock him back in the water. He catches his balance and shoots Allura another glare. 

“You have to stay away! We can protect him until the Galra lose interest, but if you keep seeing him they never will.”

“But if there is a cure—”

“There isn’t. Please, Keith. It’s too late for you. We couldn’t save you and I am truly sorry for that. But please, let us save Lance.”

Keith studies Allura’s face. He sees true regret there. She and Shiro had tried to save him long ago. They tried for years, despite Keith turning them away at every turn. 

“If there’s no cure, why did you try so hard all those years ago?”

“Guilt,” she whispers, dropping her head. “I knew there was nothing we could do, but after everything… we had to try.”

“Lance still believes,” Keith raises his chin defiantly. 

“Lance believes because he wants to, not because he’s right. He has seen that remnant of humanity in you and he believes it means there is still hope. But we both know how strong your Galra side is. It will win eventually, and Lance will be left alone, if he’s even still alive by that point. Please, if there is anything human left in you at all, let him go while he still has a chance.”

Allura fades away, leaving Keith standing on his own, naked and dripping, a familiar pain in his chest. 

 

*****

 

When Lance arrives at the beach the next morning, Keith is already there waiting for him. He’s sitting at the edge of the rock out-crop, legs pulled up underneath his chin as he stares out at the ocean. Lance picks his way carefully across the rocks. His stomach is still a little sore. The last thing he needs is to slip and end up with a rock in the gut. 

“Hey Keith! I’ve got another potion for us to try. I know that last one didn’t work, but I think we’re onto something with this one. Coran found it in an Altean text. Well, and Altean cookbook maybe, but he thinks it’s still worth a go—”

“I’m done.” 

Lance pauses. He’s only a few steps away, close enough to see the stiff posture in Keith’s back. 

“What? What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m done with all this. The cure. Nothing has worked, and I’m done trying.” 

“We’ll find something.” 

“No. We won’t.” Keith stands suddenly, spinning to face Lance. Lance takes a step back. Despite Keith having legs, his face still carries his mermaid features. It’s disorienting to see those purple cat-eyes and sharp teeth while Keith is standing on two legs in front of him. “I’m Galra. It’s not something that can change just because you want it to.” 

“Yes, it is,” Lance shoots back “That’s literally how magic works.” 

“Maybe in stories, but this is real life. You can’t change me.” 

Lance shakes his head. This is all coming out of nowhere. 

“Why are you saying this? Yesterday you were fine. You were ready to be human. What changed?”   
Keith takes a step forward and Lance has to force himself to stay put, to not back down. Keith’s face is only an inch away from his. 

“I can smell the blood on you.” 

Lance’s hand goes to his stomach instinctively. Satisfied by the reaction, Keith steps back again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the attack?” 

“It was nothing,” Lance says, forcing a shrug. “Pidge and Hunk are looking out for me. I’m fine. Besides, it has nothing to do with—

“Do you know why you haven’t been attacked before? Your pain was like a beacon when I found you. I could have felt you from anywhere on the island, which means I’m not the only one who felt it. But you were on my turf. I claimed you. You were my prey.” Lance shivers at the word prey. He had never felt that way with Keith. The monster last night was another story. “By our rules, that meant they had to stay away,” Keith continues. “Now that they know you’re trying to help me, it invalidates my claim. I can’t protect you and the more you try to find a cure for me, the more you make yourself a threat to them. If you try to help me, they won’t give up.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Keith looks shocked for a moment, but the shock quickly melts into sadness. 

“I do. I won’t put you in more danger.” 

“Keith, wait.” Lance takes a step forward, but it’s too late. Keith dives into the ocean. “Wait! Keith!” There’s a flash of black scales a few meters out, and then he’s gone. Lance stares after him, not believing it. This can’t be happening. Not now, not when they’d finally started to make some progress. Keith can’t be gone. 

 

*****

 

Lance spends all morning at the beach. When Keith doesn’t show, he drives to the cliffs, then the bridge. He even considers trying to find his way back to Keith’s secret beach, but he’s not quite ready to attempt wandering in the forest on his own again. By the time he gets home, the scrapes on his stomach are aching. He gulps down a few pain killers, then tries to concentrate. He’s not sure how else he can find Keith. If he could get his hands on a boat, he could go out looking for him in the ocean, but he has even less of an idea where to look in the open waters than he does on the coast. 

“How are you feeling?”

Lance spins around, heart pounding. Allura is standing next to the dining table, giving him a sympathetic look. 

“Your wound, how is it?”

“Fine,” Lance lies, making an effort not to press a hand to his stomach. There’s a slight burning sensation and he’s sure he twisted enough to open one of the cuts. 

“I can help if you’d like. It’s one of my gifts as a Paladin of the Wind. Please, sit.”

Lance takes a seat in the chair she gestures to, then Allura kneels down and places a hand over Lance’s stomach. He feels an immediate relief as a cool, tingling sensation spreads across his skin. Allura’s eyes are closed, her brow furrowed in concentration, and Lance allows his own eyes to close as well, relaxing into the touch. After several minutes, the cooling finally fades. 

“There,” Allura says, climbing to her feet and looking tired. “How does it feel now?” 

“It feels…” Actually, it feels completely normal. Lance pulls up his shirt and peels one of the bandages away. Where there had been an ugly red gash, crusty with scabs only a moment before, there is now smooth, healthy skin. A pale, slightly raised scar is the only sign that anything had happened. 

“Wow! That’s amazing!” 

Allura looks pleased.

“Man, I wish I’d had you do this before I went to see Keith. He wouldn’t have even known I’d gotten hurt.”

Something in Allura’s expression shifts at the mention of Keith, but her next words are casual. 

“How is he? Are you still… seeing him?”

“Yeah, if I can ever find him again,” Lance huffs, dropping his shirt. “He smelled the blood when I went to see him, put two and two together, and now he thinks he’s the reason I got hurt.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Lance glares at Allura. He’s had a really hard day and the last thing he needs is Allura’s weird animosity towards anything and everything related to Keith. 

“Why do you hate him so much?” 

“I don’t hate him. I just don’t trust him. He’s a Galra.” 

“No, that’s not the reason!” Lance leans forward fists clenched on the table before him. He’s sick of this bullshit excuse these spirits keep giving him. “People go swimming in that bay or walking around in those apparently Galra infested woods all the time and you don’t warn any of them. But when I became friends with Keith, you told me to stay away. This isn’t about the Galra. It’s about Keith. Why do you care so much?” 

“Because I’m the reason he’s like that.” Lance stares. The anguish on Allura’s face is only there for a moment, a crack in the armor, before she pulls herself back under control. “It was my duty to protect him and I failed,” She says, calmer, but Lance can’t help but notice the slight shake in her voice. 

“Shiro and I… we thought we could befriend him, help him from a young age, teach him about our ways and about the Galra. We were wrong. It only made him a target. And when they couldn’t find a way to simply kill him, they targeted his mind. They drove those around him to evil, planted dark thoughts in his head, and not even Shiro or I could reach him after a while. When he could take it no longer, he…” Her voice hitches and she has to pause to collect herself. 

“We vowed we would not let that happen again. When we saw you with him, when we saw him save your life… I allowed myself to hope. We began to keep a closer eye on you two, but it quickly became apparent what his intent was. He wants you to become a Galra. We could not allow him to corrupt you as he was corrupted.” 

“But he’s different now,” Lance insists. “He doesn’t want that anymore. He wants to be cured. He wants to be human.” 

“Those he serves will never let it happen. They will drag you into darkness to stop it. If you stop now, they may forget about you.” 

“I can’t just leave him.” 

“You must. Believe me, Lance, I know how hard this is. Shiro and I… we tried for decades to save Keith, to find a cure or a spell to set him free. Nothing worked, but we kept trying. Eventually you have to let go.” 

“I’m not ready to do that.” 

“Keith is.” 

“What?” 

Lance stares, but Allura won’t meet his gaze. Slowly, realization dawns on him. 

Are you going to try to stop me?  
I won’t.  
Will Allura?  
Probably.

“You told him about the attack.”

Allura straightens up to her full and impressive height, all traces of guilt replaced with a steely determination. 

“Yes, I spoke to him. I told him what he risks by continuing to see you and he agreed to leave you alone.” 

“How could you… You had no right!” Lance is on his feet, fists clenched so hard that he can feel the nails digging into flesh. 

“I have every right,” Allura says, taking a step forward and staring him down. “I am a paladin of Voltron. I bear a great responsibility and I make no apologies for what I must do to protect the world and all those in it. One day you will understand that.” 

“Get out!” 

Allura disappears, but her voice lingers. 

“It’s for your own good.”

Lance grabs a glass from the table and chucks it at the space Allura used to be. It hits the wall, shattering to pieces. Lance drops back into his chair, gripping his hair in both hands, trying not to shatter as well. 

 

*****

 

Pidge and Hunk refuse to leave Lance’s side. They become his official protectors. It would be kind of sweet if they weren’t also making him a prisoner. Though they never admit to having any agenda beyond keeping Lance safe, they are also doing a pretty good job at keeping him away from the ocean. Any time either of them has the slightest suspicion that Lance is trying to get to Keith, he finds his way blocked by doors that won’t open, a car that won’t start, or rocks and trees and vines that trip him and slow him down. The two times he makes it to the ocean, Hunk and Pidge stay so close that he accidentally walks through them several times. The only place Lance can get away from them is Coran’s. They still aren’t allowed in, per Allura’s rule. Not that there’s any reason for them to enter. This is the one place on the whole island that Lance is safe. No need to watch him there. The second he steps foot outside that door, however, the two spirits are right back at his side.   
It’s driving Lance a little crazy. 

“Ugh,” Lance groans, flopping face-first onto the tiny couch next to the register. Coran looks up from the stack of receipts he has been going through. “How do I ditch a ghost?” 

“Why would you want to?” Coran asks, going back to his receipts. “Aren’t they protecting you?” 

“Yeah, among other things.” Lance flips onto his back so he can glare in Coran’s direction. “I can’t get a single moment to myself.” 

“We get that, Lance, but you were almost killed a few days ago,” Matt says, looking up from his laptop. Coran finally agreed to let Matt keep a few of his experiments at the shop, and as a result he’s been here more than Lance most days. Matt is probably one of the other reasons that Pidge at least isn’t pushing Coran’s ‘no ghosts’ policy. Since the night Matt felt her presence in the car, she has been keeping her distance from him. Lance would have asked about it, but that would have required breaking his newly imposed silent treatment towards her and Hunk. 

“I know it sucks not having your privacy,” Matt continues, “but surely it’s better than being mauled to death. They said that things would calm down eventually, right? Can’t you just hang in there until they do?” 

“No. I can’t wait,” Lance says sullenly, sitting up to direct his glare at Matt this time. 

“Is it because of Keith?”

“No.”

Matt rolls his eyes. 

“OK, fine. It’s about Keith. I just have to talk to him again. I know I can convince him to give me a second chance. Besides, I’ll stick to the beach. That’s Keith’s turf. He told me. I was trying to help him for weeks and the only time something attacked me was in the woods. I’m sure I’ll be safe.” 

“If you would be safe anywhere but the woods, then why do you have a couple of ghost bodyguards going literally everywhere else with you?”

“Because it’s not really about keeping me safe. It’s about keeping me away from Keith. They’re not my body guards. They’re my prison guards. Please help me. I just need to see Keith once, to convince him, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll stop. I promise.” 

“No, you won’t.” Coran delivers this matter of fact statement without looking up from his receipts. Lance opens his mouth to give a none too polite retort, but Matt quickly cuts him off. 

“We’ll think about it, though.” 

Lance shakes he head and heads upstairs. He’d rather leave the store completely, but Matt and Coran are not the people he’s frustrated with the most. Those two people are waiting for him, just outside the door. 

The next day, Lance is hunched over a book on the mystic properties of crystals when Matt slides a notebook across the table to him. There’s a drawing on the open page along with arrows and technical notes scrawled in the margins. 

“What’s this?”

“Coran and I talked. We’re going to help you, but only this one time. Find Keith, try to convince him, or just… say goodbye. Whatever you need. We can give you this window, but that’s all. We’re not going to do it a second time.”

“Thanks Matt.”

“Let’s get to work. With your help, Coran and I can have it ready by tomorrow.”

 

*****

 

“I’m so bored,” Hunk whines, slumping against the front of Coran’s shop. 

Normally Pidge would roll her eyes at his dramatics, but today she can’t help but nod in agreement. Usually Lance can’t stay still long enough to stay in Coran’s shop for more than three or four hours at a time, but today he hasn’t come out once. It’s already early evening and she and Hunk haven’t been able to move from this spot since early morning. 

“He’s doing this to punish us, isn’t he?”

Well, it certainly looked that way. Lance had been giving them the silence treatment for days now, ever since that shouting match at the beach where Lance had accused them of being mindless flunkeys. Hunk had tried to explain without giving him too much information, but that had only made Lance angrier. In the end, Hunk finally gave up trying. 

A jingling sound breaks Pidge out of her thoughts. 

“Finally,” Hunk moans, pushing himself off the wall. Lance steps out of the door and, for the first time in the last two days, looks Pidge in the eyes. 

“Guys, I owe you an apology.” 

Pidge glances at Hunk. He looks just about as skeptical as she feels.

“Uh, not that we’re not grateful, but this is a bit… sudden,” Hunk says.

“Yeah, why the change of heart.”

“I’ve just been talking with Matt and Coran a lot today and… well, they’ve got some valid points.” Lance says. “I know you’re just trying to protect me and even though I may not like your methods, I know your hearts are in the right place. I’ve been an ass about it. Why don’t you come inside?”

Something is off here. Lance is acting weird. The way his eyes keep darting away from them, the careful, stiff way he holds his body. Pidge looks at Hunk again and she can tell he’s sensing the same thing. 

“We can’t come in,” Pidge says, looking back at Lance. “The rule, remember?” 

“It’s fine. I explained everything to Coran. He actually kind of wants to meet you guys now. And Matt… he really wants to see you, Pidge. He has some stuff he’s wanted to say to you for a while now and seeing as how you’ve been avoiding him since that Galra attack…” 

Pidge looks away, guilt coiling in her gut. This isn’t the first time Lance has brought up the way she has been avoiding Matt. She spent so much time after her death keeping an eye on her family, making sure they were safe, but it had been a long time since they’d been in the same room together. She had forgotten how much it hurt. In the beginning, Hunk had tried to encourage her to let go. She got the feeling that his inability to let go of his own family had been a particular source of grief, though he never really talked about it. Instead, Pidge had tried to find a way to let Matt see her. After repeated failures, she went back to watching and protecting from a distance.   
She looks past Lance, through the door he has left ajar, and she can see Matt, speaking to Coran and glancing nervously at Lance ever now and then. Matt, who never gave up on finding her, even when the rest of her family had. Pidge owes him this, doesn’t she? At least once. 

“Fine.” 

Hunk stares at her, confused, but he doesn’t contradict her. Lance smiles, the relief evident on his face as he ushers them inside. 

“OK, so you guys sit right there,” he says, pointing to two chairs with notebook paper taped to the backs. The words “Hunk” and “Pidge” have been hastily scrawled across the pages. “That way Matt and Coran know where you are. Matt and Coran will sit across from you and I’ll sit here and translate,” Lance says, pointing to a chair on the end. Pidge slides into her appointed chair, eyes still fixed on her brother. Hunk sits down next to her. “OK, great, now you guys just wait right here.”

It takes a second for those words to register fully in Pidge’s brain. Wait? Why would they need to wait? Everybody is already here. Her eyes snap back to Lance, who is backing towards the edge of the room. Something is wrong. She starts to stand. 

“I’m sorry Katie.”

Pidge’s eyes jump back to her brother at the sound of his voice. Belatedly, she sees the power strip in his hand. 

“Wait, what are you –“ 

A loud crack of electricity cuts through the air as Matt flips the switch. Electricity sparks over their heads and Pidge follows the sight to the wires running along the length of the room. It’s a faraday cage. They’re trapped. But why would they be…

Realization dawns on Pidge and she turns to see Lance heading for the door. 

“Wait! Lance, stop! It’s not safe! You can’t go out there on your own!”

Hunk is on his feet too now, yelling for Lance to let them out. Lance doesn’t slow down or even look at them before he’s out the door. The jingle of the bell and the click of the door are almost inaudible over the buzz of electricity around them. Lance is out there, on his own, with no idea what’s hiding in this town. 

“What have we done?”

 

*****

 

Eventually, Shiro and Allura will realize that Hunk and Pidge are missing. They’ll check in and find them at Coran’s, or worse they’ll find Lance here, calling out Keith’s name on the beach. He checks his watch. More than an hour has passed. He’s running out of time. He negotiated two hours out of Matt and Coran, two hours before they’d flip the switch and release Hunk and Pidge. Keith isn’t here. Or, if he is, what Lance is doing isn’t working. Time creeps by as Lance tries to think of something. The sun is already sinking towards the horizon. Lance watches as the sun settles onto the water, a slow bleed of red stretching across the horizon. This is it, his last chance to save Keith or, at the very least, to say goodbye, and it’s almost gone. Keith isn’t coming, no matter how much Lance calls for him. It hurts more than he thought it would to lose someone who never loved him. He didn’t realize that could break a person’s heart so completely. 

He takes a steadying breath and pushes those thoughts aside. He has to think of something, some way to draw him in, to force Keith to come find him, to call out to him no matter where he is on the island, something he won’t be able to ignore. 

“Your pain was like a beacon when I found you. I could have felt you from anywhere on the island.” 

Lance hears Keith’s words in his head again and suddenly, he knows what to do. He races down the beach, rocks and sand slipping beneath his feet, threatening to make him fall, but he manages to stay upright until he reaches the cliffs. Keith’s hunting ground. Lance takes off his shoes, then his shirt and the rest of his clothes until he’s left standing in nothing more than his underwear. He lowers himself onto a rocky ledge several inches above the water. It’s deep here. Lance can barely see the bottom through the clear water. 

“This has to work,” he mutters to himself, before jumping into the cool water. He swims out from the shore, far enough to act as a beacon. Then he closes his eyes. 

Keith, come find me. 

I can’t lose my family again. 

I need you. 

I love you. 

He thinks about his parents, his sister, his brothers. He thinks about losing Keith. He thinks about Keith telling him he couldn’t return his love. He thinks about every painful thing that has happened to him in the last year and in his mind, he repeats those some words, over and over again. 

Come find me. 

I need you. 

I love you. 

Come find me. 

He feels strong arms wrap around his chest from behind. Lance smiles, eyes still closed, sighing with relief. A voice whispers into his ear. 

“My, aren’t you a tasty treat.”

Lance’s eyes snap open a second before he’s pulled under. 

The webbed hands on his waist hold him tight, dragging him under. Lance struggles to turn around in their grip. By the time he’s finally facing the merman, he already knows it’s not Keith. A deep purple face with yellow eyes and sharp teeth grins at him. It’s another Galra. He’d been so stupid to come out here alone, and now he is going to pay for that stupidity. 

A long, muscular tail wraps around his legs. Lance tries to push the monster away, but the Galra quickly adjusts its grip, pinning Lance’s arms to his sides. They’re sinking. Pretty soon, Lance will need to take a breath. He’ll open his mouth, water will fill his lungs, and that will be the end of it all. The monster grins, sharp teeth all on display, but then, suddenly, his face is gone, slammed to the side by a purple and black blur. The Galra’s grip loosens and Lance finds himself being pulled upwards by another pair of arms. 

They breech the surface, Lance gasping for breath. Keith’s worried face is inches from Lance’s own, eyes darting from Lance’s mouth to his eyes, making sure he’s alive, making sure he’s OK. 

“Get to the shore,” Keith says, shoving him in the right direction. “I’ll hold him off.”

Lance doesn’t want to leave Keith, but a second later the decision is made for him. Keith’s head disappears as something jerks him below the waves. Swim, Lance tells himself. Swim! 

He reaches the shore in no time, but the tide has gone out while he was searching and the stone shelf he’d been sitting on earlier is now more than a foot above his head. Lance struggles to get a grip, hands and feet slipping against wet stone, until he’s finally able to get enough leverage to pull himself up. Once out of the water, he turns, searching for the slightest sign of Keith. A tail slaps the surface before going back under. No way to know if it’s Keith or the other one. Then a head pops up. 

“Keith! Over here! Hurry!”

Keith turns towards his voice, looking confused. 

“Get out of here, Lance!”

“I’m not leaving without you! Now you get your ass out of that water or I’m coming back in after you!”

Keith disappears again and Lance is worried the other Galra may have gotten him. A splash to his right proves him wrong as Keith surfaces, hands scrambling on the stone. Lance crawls over to him, ignoring the pain as his knees scrape against rock. He reaches down. 

“Grab on! I’ll pull you up.”

Keith grabs onto Lance’s arm and Lance begins to heave him out of the water. When Keith is high enough, he throws an arm around Lance’s shoulder and Lance wraps his arm around Keith’s chest. A second later, a sharp tug nearly drags them both into the water. Lance looks over Keith’s shoulder in time to see the other Galra surface. He’s holding onto Keith’s tail, an evil grin on his face as he tugs again, trying to pull both of them into the water. Lance digs his free hand into the stone and grips Keith even harder, pulling with all his might. The other Galra is grinning, right up until Keith’s tail begins to transform. His fins disappear and his legs slip through the Galra’s grip. Lance gives one more monumental heave and they’re finally both on dry land. Lance drags them as far back from the ledge as he can, eyes searching wildly for any sign of the merman coming after them. His body feels cold all over, except for where Keith’s head is buried against his neck, hot breath warming his skin as Keith pants, trying to catch his breath. 

“We should go,” Keith finally manages to say. “Haxus can’t transform like I can, but he won’t give up. We need to get away from the water.”

“We can go to my house. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the comments and the kudos and the support. I really appreciate it all. 
> 
> If you've missed the end notes from previous chapters, here are the highlights:   
> You can follow me on tumblr, username [sscalliwag](https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com) for fic updates as well as occasional extras (i.e. backstories, fluffy scenes, and other stuff that didn't make it into the actual fic) I also generally post links to the extras here, just in case you don't have a tumblr. Currently, the only extra is the story about Keith's past. The link is at the end of chapter 6 if you missed it.


	9. Man Made Maddness and the Romance of Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Haxus's attack, Lance and Keith must re-group and figure out how to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I am so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Life has been chaos and this was probably the worst chapter for that chaos to coincide with. I don't think I've ever re-written a chapter so many times in my life! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it and without further adieu, here is chapter 9!

Lance keeps glancing at the front door. 

“You’re sure Haxus can’t transform, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Keith says, though he can’t seem to keep himself from glancing nervously at the door either. “It’s one of the reasons he hates me so much. He accuses me of being too human, but I honestly think he’s just jealous. There’s a lot more prey on land.” 

The words are meant to be comforting. They’re not. Lance has almost been a Galra’s prey twice now. Once on Land. Once in the sea. Technically twice in the sea, he reminds himself. Fewer and fewer places feel safe these days. He shakes himself. This is his home. If any place is safe, it should be here. Instead of worrying about what might happen next, Lance turns his focus to what needs to be done right now. 

“OK, let’s patch you up.” 

Keith looks surprised. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You’re bleeding.” 

Keith frowns and holds up his arm. There’s a four-inch long gash so deep that Lance can see muscle. He can also see blood, sitting just inside the split edges of flesh. And that’s where it stays, not dripping or seeping out of the cut. Just… there, frozen beneath his skin. 

“I’m not bleeding,” he says, dropping his arm. “And I’ll heal. I just need to get back into the water.” 

“Right,” Lance shakes his head, trying to will the image of that grizzly sight away. “The pool should be clean. It—”

“I can do that later,” Keith interrupts. “Right now, we should take care of you.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

Keith pokes Lance in the shoulder, making him hiss in pain. 

“You are bleeding,” Keith says, pointing to the red patch that’s spreading from the scrapes beneath Lance’s sleeve. “There are some on your back too. I’ll help you get those, then I’ll go to the pool. Fair enough?”

Lance nods. 

It doesn’t take long. The cuts on Lance are mostly shallow. The worst are the scrapes on his knees. Keith has to dig out several pieces of gravel and by the time he’s done, Lance has tears in his eyes. He brushes them away quickly, steadying himself with a few deep breaths. Keith apologizes, but Lance waves the words away. When they’re finished, Keith retreats to the pool while Lance starts rustling through the cupboards for something to eat. He’s not hungry, even though he knows he should be. He hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He should be starving, but mostly he’s just tired. 

“Are you OK?”

Lance spins around at the voice, spatula in hand, poised to stab at the unexpected intruder, only to realize a moment later that it would be both unnecessary and entirely ineffective. 

“Hunk. How long have you been standing there?”

“I just got here.” Hunk steps around the counter. “We’ve been searching all over for you. Pidge found blood at the cliffs. We thought you were-” 

“I’m fine,” Lance says, cutting him off. 

“You’re not fine. You’re hurt.” Hunk’s eyes are sweeping across Lance’s body, taking in the bandages and scrapes. Lance crosses his arms, self-consciously. He’s starting to wish he had put on a shirt. 

“I’m alive,” he says with a shrug. Hunk nods, the tension in his face visibly slipping away as that reality sinks in. 

“Yeah.” His eyes narrow. “No thanks to that trick you pulled on us.”

Lance sighs and turns back around to open another cupboard. He knows he should feel guilty about the cage. At best his decision was selfish. At worst it was suicidally stupid. Whichever was the case, however, it had worked. Lance found Keith. That was something he couldn’t regret. 

“I didn’t have any other choice.”

“Yes, you did! You could have chosen not to risk your life for a stupid Galra.”

Lance slams the cupboard and spins around, glaring at Hunk. 

“Yeah, well that stupid Galra risked his life and almost died trying to save me today, so maybe instead of insulting him, you could say thank you.”

“I…” Hunk looks at the bandages on Lance’s chest again and visibly swallows down whatever retort had been on his lips. “Lance, what happened?”

“This other Galra showed up. Haxus.” Lance leans against the counter, the fight leaving him almost as quickly as it flared up. God he’s tired. “He got me, was about to kill me, and then Keith showed up. He saved me and we came back here.”

“Wait. Is he here?”

“Yeah. He’s out back in the pool and—” Lance glances out the window and promptly forgets what he had been saying. Keith is watching them, eyes narrowed, arms poised like he’s about to haul himself out of the pool so that he can run in and defend Lance if need be. Ever his protector. Lance shakes his head slightly. Keith watches him for a second longer before nodding once and then sinking back into the pool. When Lance turns back to Hunk, it’s to find the ghost looking between him and the pool, still visibly upset about the whole situation. 

“Look, don’t tell anyone he’s here, OK? They’re just going to make a huge deal about it, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“I can’t just hide it from them. Besides, what are you going to say when Pidge or Allura or Shiro show up? They’re going to find out eventually.”   
Lance squeezes his eyes shut. Just one minute of peace is all he wants. Just one minute where things are simple and fine and no one’s life or happiness is on the line. For a moment, he aches to be numb again. 

“You said…” Lance opens his eyes. Hunk is watching the pool again. “You said he saved you from another Galra tonight?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Just for tonight… they won’t bother you about him tonight, OK?”

All of the air leaves Lance’s lungs in a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

“Thank you, Hunk. Really, thank you. I – ”

“I’m not going to lie to them.” Hunk still hasn’t looked at Lance. “I’m not going to lie for you, but I’ll make sure they know what happened, and I promise we won’t bother you again tonight.”

Lance nods. 

“That’s fair.”

Hunk nods and turns to leave. 

“Hunk, wait. I… I’m sorry. About locking you in that faraday cage. Even though you guys were wrong about Keith, you were right about the other Galra. I should have trusted you about that.”

Hunk pauses. Then he finally looks at Lance, a tiny, slightly annoyed smile on his face. 

“Just don’t do it again and you’re forgiven. By me at least. Pidge will probably hold a grudge for a couple hundred years, so I’d start trying to think of better apologies for her.”

With that, he’s gone. A tiny smile slips onto Lance’s lips, but it doesn’t stay for long. He’s just so tired. All he wants is to curl up under a pile of blankets and disappear into blissful unconsciousness. A splash from outside catches his attention, reminding him that he can’t go to sleep just yet. He needs to make sure Keith is OK first. 

When he steps outside, Lance finds Keith is floating on his back towards the shallow end of the pool, eyes closed, long black tail stretched out along the surface. His fin swishes this way or that every now and then, keeping him steady. His skin is ghostly pale in the moonlight. Somehow, he manages to look even more inhuman against the backdrop of Lance’s pool than he does in the sea. 

“What did Hunk want?” Keith asks, eyes still closed. 

Lance sighs and steps into the pool, taking a seat on the top step. Water laps at his legs, just barely covering the top of his thighs. Keith bobs slightly as the water is displaced and he opens his eyes to see what Lance is doing.

“He just wanted to make sure I was safe. They were supposed to be guarding me, but… I wanted to see you, so I found a way to slip away. Doesn’t matter, though.”

It’s obvious that Keith knows there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t push the issue. He just nods and closes his eyes again. Lance watches him float there for a few more minutes before breaking the silence. 

“Feeling any better?” The corner of Keith’s mouth twitches up in a wry smile and he raises his arm for Lance to see. The gaping wound has closed to a thin, red line. Lance leans forward to get a better look at the cuts and scratches on Keith’s chest, but they’ve already disappeared completely. 

“The perks of being dead,” Keith says, dropping his hand back to the water. He flips onto his stomach and flicks his tail to propel himself closer. Lance reaches out to take Keith’s hand and gives a tug to close the rest of the distance. 

“You know that most dead people don’t actually heal themselves, right?”

Keith shrugs. He folds his arms across the top of Lance’s legs and rests his head there. 

“It’s not really healing. It’s just… not changing. Everything returns to the same state.”

“Does it hurt.”

Keith shakes his head. 

“Another perk?”

Keith doesn’t smile at the joke. He’s watching one of his hands as he traces tiny circles onto the top of Lance’s thigh, a small frown on his face. 

“It’s not really a perk,” he says, finally, “Not being able to feel…”

“But… you can feel some things, right?” Lance brushes a finger along the edge of Keith’s ear. The merman shivers, his eyes drifting shut slightly. 

“It’s a different kind of feeling,” he says, voice sounding breathless. He turns his head slightly, just enough for his ear to slip out of reach of Lance’s fingers, and continues tracing patterns against Lance’s skin. “It’s not that I don’t feel pain. I’m just… numb to it. Same with most other things.”

“So… you do feel some things?” Keith’s hand freezes, but he doesn’t move away. “I mean, I know you don’t love me, not in the usual way, but you feel something, right?”

“We’ve talked about this,” Keith says softly, still not looking at Lance’s face. 

“I know, I just…. I don’t get it. You risked your life to save me tonight. There has to be a reason. You keep saving me, even though it goes against your nature. Why? Even on that first day, at the cliffs. Why didn’t you just kill me?” 

Keith twists away. For a second, Lance is afraid he’s going to disappear beneath the water to avoid answering the question, but Keith barely moves out of reach before settling his back against the wall of the pool. 

“What reason do you want to hear? Something romantic? Profound? Noble?” There’s a bite of bitterness in the words. 

“No. Just… the truth.” 

Keith sighs and slides lower into the pool, his breath turning into bubbles as his lips dip beneath the surface for a moment. 

“The truth is I still don’t know why. I’ve thought about it every day since then and… I can’t think of a reason why it makes sense. It was just… a whim.”

“Oh.”

“That’s not what you wanted to hear.”

Lance shakes his head. 

“I don’t want to hear anything specific. I just want to understand. If it was a whim, why did you come back?”

“Because I wanted to understand too. I thought… maybe it meant something. Maybe there was something… special about you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“You didn’t.” Keith finally looks at Lance. “It may have just been a whim that lead to us meeting, but it wasn’t a whim that kept me coming back.”

“Then what was it?”

“How irritating you are.”

Lance glares and kicks a wave of water in Keith’s direction. Keith ducks under the surface to avoid it and when he comes back up he’s smirking.

“I’m serious. I was so irritated by you for the first month we knew each other. You were the most confusing, self-contradicting person I’ve ever met.”

“Keep talking and you’re going to end up with a mouth full of water.”

Lance raises his foot threateningly, but Keith just grabs onto his ankle and uses it to pull himself in closer. Lance follows the gentle tug and slides down two more steps. The water is nearly up to his shoulders now and Keith moves in closer, his hands resting on Lance’s knees, holding himself steady, their faces less than a foot apart. 

“I liked it. I liked you. I liked how confusing and frustrating and funny you were. And I did…” Keith’s eyes drop for a second. He hesitates, then starts again, determined. “I do feel something when I’m around you. It feels… I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s like… It’s like the feeling I get when I’m feeding on people, except… brighter and… out of reach.” He smiles again, that same wry smirk that Lance has seen a million times, tilting his head to the side. “Like I said, frustrating.” Lance rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips. “I used to think…” The smile slides off Keith’s mouth as his eyes search Lance’s face. “I used to think that maybe if I could just dim that light, just a little, just enough, maybe I could reach it. I thought if you were like me, if you were a Galra, that would do it. Then maybe I’d understand.” 

Lance shivers and it’s not because of the cool water. 

“Do you still want me to become a Galra?”

It takes a moment for Keith to answer. His eyes are still searching, though Lance isn’t sure for what. 

“No,” he finally says. 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t want to dim that light anymore. Even if it’s out of reach and frustrating and painful to be around…” One of Keith’s hands leaves Lance’s knee, brushing against his jaw instead. Lance’s breath catches at the touch. “It’s still better than the alternative. You’re better like this.” 

Keith’s is so close now, his breath brushing across Lance’s face, his thumb tracing the lower edge of Lance’s mouth. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into the touch and waiting to feel Keith’s lips against his own. Instead, Keith’s hand disappears, the rest of his body quickly following, leaving Lance alone on the steps as Keith kicks his way to deeper water. 

“It’s late,” Keith says. “You should get some rest.”

Lance frowns, not exactly sure what just happened. Had he completely misread that moment? He brushes a hand against his bottom lip, where he can still feel the pressure from Keith’s thumb. No, the moment was exactly what he thought it had been. This is something else. Some other reason Keith is pulling away. Still, there isn’t much he can do about it now. Keith’s right. It has been a long day and Lance could really use some rest. He climbs out of the pool and grabs one of the towels from the chair, drying himself off quickly. The bandages Keith had helped him with earlier are beginning to sag. Lance will have to re-do them tonight. He smooths down one on his arm, flinching slightly from the wound Haxus had inflicted. He freezes. 

“Keith,” he says softly, “You can’t go back to the ocean anymore, can you? Not with Haxus out there.”

Keith doesn’t respond. Lance turns, wondering if maybe he hadn’t heard, but Keith is at the edge of the pool. He’s not looking at Lance, but he clearly heard the question. 

“Haxus isn’t the problem,” he says, eyes fixed on stone tiles at the edge of the pool. 

“You mean there are bigger Galra out there?”

“No, I mean… yeah, he’s a problem. I could probably avoid him if I wanted, though. Go other places. That wouldn’t help though.”

“Why not?”

Keith sighs, pushing himself arms-length away from the pool edge, tipping his head back to look at the sky. 

“I haven’t…. I haven’t eaten since we met.”

“What do you mean? I buy you food all the time.”

Keith shoots Lance an exasperated glare before shifting his eyes to the yard, looking everywhere except at Lance. 

“No, I mean… people. Their energy, their… quintessence. It was going to be you, and then it wasn’t. And I still thought, maybe, once I figured everything out, maybe I’d still feed on you. Then after a while, I realized that was never going to happen, that I just… couldn’t do that to you, ever. And after you found out what I was, what I’ve done… I didn’t want to feed again. I didn’t want to disappoint you. After Sendak attacked you though, I thought things would go back to normal. I gave up on the cure and I knew that meant killing again. I found someone on the bridge, someone who didn’t want to go on. I waited. She jumped, and I was going to kill her, but then… I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. Even when you weren’t there, I wanted to be better for you. I don’t think that’s going away. I can’t kill anymore, which means I can’t eat. I’ll starve and fade away. It’s only a matter of time.”

Lance stares. His first instinct is to jump back in that pool and hold Keith in his arms as tight as he can, but he remembers the way Keith pulled away. He remembers the distance he put between them, and he stays put, no matter how much his body is screaming at him to do something. Instead, he says the only thing he can think of. 

“I don’t want you to die.”

Keith smiles, though the expression doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“You want me to kill someone else instead?”

“No. I just… maybe we can still find a cure.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Keith doesn’t sound convinced. 

“We will find it. I will find it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You should go inside. It’s late.”

With that, Keith sinks beneath the surface, effectively ending their conversation. 

 

***

 

Lance shivers and pulls the blanket around his shoulders tighter. After the conversation with Keith, he had gone back inside, showered, put new bandages on his wounds, thrown on the warmest pair of pajamas he owned, and crawled into bed. He lasted about twenty minutes before coming back out to the living room. Lance is exhausted, but he can’t seem to fall asleep. Every time he closes his eyes he feels Haxus’ tail wrapped around him. He sees Keith slipping beneath the waves, eyes panicked. The living room isn’t exactly the most comforting room in his house. The tall windows and glass doors had always made Lance feel exposed as a kid, but at least now he can keep the pool and Keith in sight.   
There’s also a fireplace. 

It takes a while to light the fire. He hasn’t done it since he was a kid, helping his dad on particularly chilly nights. After a few tries, however, the fire is roaring and Lance is starting to feel a little more warmth creep into his bones. He slides off the couch and onto the floor, closer to the heat. His eyes begin to drift closed again and this time he doesn’t resist it. 

“Lance…”

His eyes snap open and he turns to see Keith standing in the doorway. The towel Lance had left for him is wrapped around his waist. 

“What is this between us?”

“What do you mean?” Lance rubs his eyes, not entirely sure this isn’t a dream. 

“There’s something there, right? It’s not just something you feel or something I feel. It’s something more, right?”

“Keith, what are you talking about?”

“There’s this… pull, this… gravity. I feel it whenever we’re not together, pulling me back to you. Even now, you’re ten feet away from me, and I can feel it pulling. Please tell me it’s not just me.”

Lance is silent, staring at Keith’s anguished face. He knows that feeling. That pull. He felt the pull the first day he came back to the beach, looking for a mysterious mermaid. Curiosity. He felt the pull when he got a closer look at the boy. Attraction. He felt the pull when he yelled at him. Guilt. He felt the pull when they spent more and more time together. Friendship. And when he started to feel more than that, when he started to care so much it ached, he knew the pull had turned into something else. Lance isn’t sure which kind of pull Keith is experiencing, but he knows. He knows. 

“I feel it to.”

The confirmation doesn’t seem to cheer Keith up. If anything, he looks even more miserable than before. He sags against the door frame. 

“Your friends were right. I’m not good for you, and you’re not good for me. We’re destroying each other’s lives.”

“Does that mean you’re going to leave?”

Keith huffs out what might have been a laugh, though there’s no humor behind it. 

“Would you ever let me go?”

“No. Would you ever leave?”

“No.”

“I guess we’re stuck with each other then, aren’t we?”

Keith smiles. It’s small and mostly sad, though not entirely. 

“Come here.” Lance unwraps his blanket and beckons Keith to sit with him. 

Keith moves to sit beside him, but Lance grabs the other man’s arm and pulls him between his legs instead. He wraps his arms around Keith from behind and pulls him down so that Keith is laying against his chest. Lance’s heart is beating fast. There’s no matching heartbeat from Keith. 

“Do you remember the night you did this for me?”

“You mean in the pool? I was trying to kill you.”

“Well then you suck at killing people,” Lance says, tucking his chin over Keith’s shoulder. “I was having a panic attack in a pool. You literally could have just left and I probably would have drowned on my own.”

Keith doesn’t say anything. 

“But you didn’t try to kill me and you didn’t let me kill myself. Every time it really comes down to it, you’re there for me.”

“I want to be. I want to be someone you can rely on, not this… monster.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t want to leave tonight.”

“OK.”

Lance knows the rules. Six hours until Keith starts to turn back into a mermaid. He should probably set an alarm, but his phone is all the way across the room and he doesn’t want to move. Keith’s body is warm in Lance’s arms. He wonders how that’s possible without a heartbeat, without blood flowing through his veins. He wraps his arms tighter around Keith’s chest, feeling the merman let out a small sigh as he relaxes into Lance’s grip. The fire crackles in front of them and Lance’s eyes begin to droop, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. He presses a soft kiss to Keith’s shoulder and whispers against the skin, soft enough that he’s not even sure Keith can hear. 

“I love you.”

He doesn’t wait for the response. He knows Keith can’t say it anyway. It doesn’t matter. His eyes drift closed and he’s asleep a second later. He doesn’t notice Keith’s eyes drifting shut as well or the way his breath slows, matching Lance’s. He doesn’t feel the soft thump beneath his fingers. 

 

*****

 

Lance is used to having to drag himself out of unconsciousness, of feeling the weight of fatigue on him no matter how much sleep he gets. This morning is different. It’s still a struggle to wake, but not because of the usual pressure and dread in his chest that have become routine in the mornings since the accident. Instead, he feels… content. He feels comfortable, despite the hard floor beneath his hip. There’s a solid warmth pressed against his body and Lance nuzzles into it, inhaling the briny scent. Soft hair tickles his nose and he wraps his arms tighter around the shape next to him. Keith’s breath is slow and deep. He’s still sleeping. Probably a good thing, since Lance still has a little bit of morning wood that is pressed solidly against Keith’s backside. He should probably feel embarrassed about that, but his sleep fogged brain is still in happy mode. Lance stretches his legs a little. It’s difficult, as they’re still tangled up with Keith’s. Something about that strikes him as odd, but he ignores it in favor of more cuddles. He buries his face back into the crook of Keith’s neck and closes his eyes. He almost slips back into unconsciousness before a startled shout wakes him.   
Suddenly, Keith is scrambling away and Lance realizes that the awkward boner may have been a bit more awkward for Keith. After all, the other man isn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, a fact that he seems to be freaking out over as he stares down at his bare legs. 

Wait. 

Legs. 

Keith with legs. 

In the morning. 

Lance glances at the clock. 10:14 a.m. It’s been longer than six hours. A lot longer. And Keith has legs. Not black and purple scale covered legs on the verge of merging back into a fin, but normal, human, flesh covered legs. 

“What…?”

Keith is on his feet before Lance can think of anything more than that single word. He stumbles to the patio door, pushes it open, and practically runs to the pool. Lance hears the splash as he climbs to his feet and follows Keith outside. He expects to see the familiar serpentine form gliding along the bottom of his pool. Instead, Keith is standing there, very wet, and still very human. 

“What…?” Lance tries again, but he still can’t think of anything more to say. 

“I didn’t change back.”

“But… why?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I just…” Keith trails off and then, out of nowhere, he laughs. It’s unexpected. Lance has never heard him make that sound before. He’s used to soft snickers and laughter forced under the breath. This is something entirely new, un-restrained, joyful. Keith lets out another laugh, which turns quite suddenly into a sob. It takes a moment for Lance to realize that the water on Keith’s face isn’t from the pool. It’s tears. 

“Keith, what is it?” he asks, dropping into the pool, heedless of the fact that he’s still wearing his pajamas. “Are you ok?” Keith is still smiling, even as he continues to sob. “Are you happy or sad?” 

“I have no idea. I just feel… I just feel.”

“It’s OK. It’s fine.” Lance gathers Keith into his arms. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Just… let it out?” Lance has never felt more awkward, standing in his pool, holding a naked and hysterical Keith who can’t seem to decide between laughter and gut-wrenching sobs. Lance has no idea how to comfort him, so he just stands there, arms wrapped around Keith until the emotion starts to subside.

“I’m OK,” Keith says, taking a deep breath, though he’s still clinging very tightly to Lance. “I’m OK,” he repeats. 

“Keith, I think you might be better than OK.” Lance pulls away, just enough so that he can look at Keith’s tear-stained face. “I think you might be cured.”

“But… how? We didn’t do anything. I mean, what if this is something else? A trick, or maybe… maybe Galra turn human once every hundred years?”

“Keith, you’ve been Galra for more than a hundred years.”

“But maybe time is different for Galra. Maybe it’s their equivalent to a hundred years. Or maybe Haxus did something while we were fighting. Or maybe—”

“Or maybe you’re human again. Permanently.” There’s a flicker of something in Keith’s eyes, something that Lance recognizes. Hope. “Come on. I think I know some people who can help us find out for sure.”

 

*** 

 

Coran is deep in thought, face scrunched up, and Lance can practically see the frown beneath his mustache. Matt is only slightly more helpful, muttering to himself and occasionally poking at Keith’s skin, before jotting down a quick note. Every time Keith looks his way, Lance tries to give him a comforting smile, occasionally pairing it with a thumbs up. Keith doesn’t seem terribly reassured. His shoulders look tense and he flinches every time Matt pokes at him. 

“I think we should take a skin sample,” Matt mutters. Keith’s head snaps around to look at Lance, who is just a second too slow at wiping the alarmed look off his face. It had taken nearly an hour for Lance to convince Keith to come to Coran’s shop. Assurance after assurance was piled on until Keith had reluctantly climbed into the car. Now it looks like Keith is seriously considering bolting. 

“Perhaps something less invasive, for now” Coran says. Lance lets out a soft sigh of relief. That’s a little comforting, though he could have done without that last bit. “Lance, there are some herbal concoctions I’ve been tinkering with upstairs. Bring them down, will you?”

Keith shoots him a “don’t leave me with these crazy people” look, but they are here for a reason. Maybe Coran’s potions will help. Lance gives Keith’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then jogs up the stairs, intent on returning as quickly as possible. At the top of the stairs, however, he finds someone waiting for him. 

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Hunk says, fixing Lance with a withering glare. “You can’t just disappear after a near death experience. Leave a note or something. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“We?”

“Yeah, Pidge is here somewhere. Checking things out. Said she wants to make sure you don’t have any more tricks up your sleeve before she comes in here again. But seriously.   
You have got to stop freaking us out like this.”

“Sorry. I just… have a lot on my mind today.” Lance glances back downstairs where Matt is back to his poking and prodding. “Keith’s human.”

Hunk glances over Lance’s shoulder where Keith is looking grumpier and grumpier, but still answering Matt’s questions. 

“Yeah, so? He does that sometimes, right?”

“No, I mean he’s human human. Like with a pulse and a heartbeat and not turning back into a mermaid when he’s in water.”

It takes about two seconds for Lance’s words to register and, when they do, Hunk’s eyes practically bug out of his head. He looks like he’s about to say something, or at least like he would like to say something, when another voice cuts him off. 

“YOU’RE HUMAN?” 

Lance spins around just in time to see Keith stumble back with a shout, nearly tripping over a chair and startling Coran and Matt in turn. Pidge had appeared only inches away from him. 

“Pidge, come on.” Lance hurries downstairs, the supplies completely forgotten. “We just got his heart working again. Don’t give him a heart attack.”

“But… how is this even possible? What did you do?”

“Katie’s here?” Matt asks, looking between Lance and the empty space he seems to be talking to. 

“Yeah, she is. And we didn’t do anything.” He says, turning his attention back to Pidge. “That’s why we’re confused too.”

“I highly doubt that,” Coran says. “Rather, I doubt that you didn’t do anything. It seems rather obvious that you are both confused by the situation. But curses like this are not likely to run their course on their own. Describe to me again exactly what transpired before Keith’s miraculous cure.”

“We were just sleeping.”

Coran nods. 

“Hmm. Yes. And how exactly were you sleeping?” 

“We were lying on the floor and I was...” Lance glances at Keith and is glad to see he’s blushing too. “I was just… holding him.” 

“And was there anything else in the room with you?”

“Just normal stuff. A couch. TV. Fire.”

Coran blinks in surprise. 

“Fire?”

“Yeah. I was cold so I started a fire in the fireplace.”

“The anchor.”

Lance jumps at the sound of Shiro’s voice. He and Allura are standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at Keith with equal expressions of awe. Keith shuffles a bit, clearly embarrassed. Coran glances in the direction Keith and Lance are looking, clearly confused. 

“What anchor?” Lance asks. 

Coran looks back at him.

“Anchor? Of course! The Altean spell! Do you remember?” The blank stare Lance gives him must be answer enough, because Coran immediately begins to rummage through the books stacked next to the register. “We came across it when we first began to search for ways to break the curse. Ah! Here it is!” He flips to a dog-eared page. Tie the soul to its anchor at midnight in the presence of that soul’s element to burn away outside influence.” 

“We just assumed Keith’s element was water,” Allura says softly, almost as if she’s talking to herself. “He was always drawn to the sea and… when he died… the curse… It seemed obvious, but we were wrong. It wasn’t water at all. It was fire.”

“But… wait, if fire was your element, then what was the anchor?” Lance turns to Keith. “I thought you couldn’t remember anything from your old life?”

Coran and Matt glance at each other knowingly while Hunk and Pidge give identical exasperated sighs. It’s Keith who speaks up first though. 

“You know, you can be really dense sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“You were my anchor, idiot. My connection to my humanity.”

“I… Oh.”

It’s a lot to process. Lance isn’t sure what to say. Mostly he just wishes he wasn’t in a room full of people right now, all watching for his response. Thankfully, Coran saves him from having to think of one. 

“Well, spell or no spell, I believe the prudent course of action would be to test the limits of this cure. Since Lance has failed to bring the necessary supplies down here, I suggest we all go to the roof instead. Besides, this is likely going to get messy.”

It takes nearly an hour for Coran and Matt to run Keith through the a dozen or more tests they’ve thought up. Coran asks Keith to transform bits and pieces of himself first, none of which he is able to accomplish. Next, Matt takes tissue and blood samples. It’s not as gruesome as Lance had expected it to be and Keith assures him that it didn’t hurt at all. After that, they combine various potions and ingredients to apply to his skin. Lance loses track of what mixtures are being applied and why. Shiro is pacing along the roof and it’s making Lance nervous, even despite the fact that Pidge and Hunk won’t shut up about how promising the test results are looking. Finally, having run through every test he can think of, Coran ends the process by simply dumping a giant bucket of sea water over Keith’s head. Pidge, Hunk, and Lance burst out laughing. Even Matt finds it hard to keep a completely straight face. 

“There’s no way he could be a mermaid anymore,” Pidge gasps through her laughter. 

“Yeah,” Lance agrees. “I’m sorry babe. You used to look so hot when you were wet, but now you just look like a drowned rat.”

“I’ll drown you like a rat,” Keith mutters, which only makes the other three laugh harder. 

Eventually, there’s only one thing left to try. 

 

***

 

Keith stares at the water. His chest feels tight and he can’t quite untangle exactly what it is he’s feeling. Through all the weeks he let Lance try to cure him, Keith had never really stopped to think about what it would be like if they succeeded. Even if he had thought about it, he never would have imagined this. What little Keith felt and what little he could remember, were single, pure emotions. Sadness. Anger. Fear. One emotion, overriding the others. Being human, it turns out, is not like that at all. From the moment he woke up, everything had been a mess of overlapping emotions, good and bad, and it had been impossible to separate them. It’s far messier and far more confusing than Keith could have imagined, and this moment is no different. 

“Keith?”

Keith bites his lip. He doesn’t look at Lance. He wants to. He wants to see that stupid, comforting smile, but he’s afraid that it will just make him start crying again. 

“What if I turn back?”

Lance’s hand slips into his and gives a gentle squeeze. 

“Then we’ll cure you again.”

Keith nods, but he doesn’t move. 

“We don’t have to do this today,” Lance continues. “We can go home. We can come back tomorrow or in a month or a year or… never. Whatever you need.”

“No, I… I need to be sure.”

Lance smiles at him and gives his hand another squeeze. 

“OK, then. Together.”

Keith closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, steps into the waves, and waits. There are no pins and needles that race up his legs. There is no twisting snapping in his bones. There’s just the gentle tug of the sea, wrapping around his two very human legs. He opens his eyes. Lance is beaming at him. Keith’s heart skips a beat. His heart beats. He almost can’t bring himself to look, but he has to see for himself. He looks down. Pale, pink toes wiggle in the sand beneath the water. There’s no sign of scales. Keith takes another step, and then another, his hand slipping out of Lance’s. The water is up to his thighs now, and still nothing. The laugh that bubbles out of his mouth is unexpected. But then, everything about today has been unexpected. He spins around to see Lance, still grinning at him and Keith can’t even comprehend how happy he is right now. His chest feels like it’s about to explode, it’s so full of emotion. He’s human again. It’s something he’d never dreamed he’d want again. Until Lance. 

“We did it!” Lance yells, pumping both fists into the air. 

“No, you did it. You saved me.” Keith can feel the tears gathering at the edges of his eyes again. Is it normal for humans to cry this much? He can’t remember. Maybe everything that’s happened since his death broke him. Maybe he can’t ever be a normal human again. But normal or not, he is human. A sob heaves out of his chest and Lance’s arms drop along with his smile. He hurries to Keith, the water splashing around his legs and slowing him down. 

“Keith, what’s wrong? What is it?”

Lance’s hand is on his shoulder and Keith can’t take it anymore. He grabs Lance, wrapping his arms around the other man’s chest and burying his face in his shoulder.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel this again.”

Lance’s arms wrap around Keith’s back, creating a cocoon of warmth. One hand rests on the back of Keith’s head, fingers carding gently through his hair. 

“I know what you mean.”

Keith raises his head to look at Lance’s stupid, beautiful, hopeful face, and then, without even thinking, he kisses him. Lance makes a surprised noise, but he doesn’t hesitate to kiss Keith back. There’s a warmth spreading through him, and it’s more than just the fact that he’s human again. Keith tries to press in closer, but he stumbles on the wet sand. Lance holds out is arms to catch Keith and they manage to gain their balance for a second before an unexpected wave sends them both tumbling into the water. 

Lance looks embarrassed, but Keith can’t help but laugh. He pulls Lance in for another kiss. The next wave crashes over their heads completely, leaving both boys coughing and sputtering. They reluctantly climb to their feet and make their way back to Lance’s car, hands clasped together, completely oblivious to the figure that slips deeper into the shadows beneath the bridge. 

***

A hooded figure crouches on the cave floor, her face lit by a pale, orange glow. Steam seeps through the fissure as she watches the pulsing vein of magma creep through the earth’s crust. Another figure enters. The shadows seem to cling to him, even in a place such as this. 

“Is it true?” She asks. 

“Yes. The boy is alive once again.” 

“This will complicate matters.” 

The man, if he can truly be called that, scoffs and crosses to the alter in the corner.

“What is so complicated. He’s human. Easy enough to kill.” 

“If that was true, you would have killed the other as soon as he was discovered.”

“I was merely testing the paladins resolve.” 

“You should have killed him yourself instead of sending your lackeys.”

Yellow eyes flash from the shadow. 

“Do not presume to tell me what to do, witch.”

“You would be wise to listen to my council if you ever wish to regain your birthright. The gate to Daibazaal was closed with the death of the last paladin. It can only be opened by the same force.” 

“Then we kill them both.” 

“No. I need time. The ceremony will be performed soon. Then there will be two paladins alive at the same time. This was not meant to be possible. My spell should have prevented this. I will need time to be sure a new plan will succeed before we can move forward.” 

“And in the meantime, you would have me do nothing?” 

“Not nothing. Wait. Prepare. Control your troops. Keep them away from the paladins until I command.” 

“You mean until I command. Very well. I will wait until the time is right.”

“There is one more task. Prepare yourself. Your gifts have allowed you to stay hidden for centuries, but you will have to face her sooner than you would like.” 

The figure crouches over the fissure, the shadows finally retreating in the face of the earth’s glow, revealing purple skin and stark white hair. 

“I am the son of Zarkon! Prince of Daibazaal! Nothing will stand between me and my throne. Not even Allura.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN! 
> 
> Our villains finally show themselves! Fun fact. This chapter was originally going to be the final chapter of this fic. Keith turns human and he and Lance live happily ever after. Hooray! But then I started expanding my mythology, figuring out why Keith was a mermaid to start with, who the paladins were, and why they were all dead, and that's when I realized there's a lot more to this story than Keith and Lance's romance. So, strap in! There's lots of exciting reveals and thrilling adventures still to come in the final three (maybe four?) chapters. 
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you guys in the comments and, just a reminder, you can also find me on tumblr at [sscalliwag.tumblr.com](https://sscalliwag.tumblr.com). Thanks for reading! ^.^


End file.
